Relapse
by jumpertrainer
Summary: Peter had already nearly lost Neal once, now it was happening all over again. Whumpage, possible spoilers...Sequel to A Way Through The Darkness.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Special Agent Peter Burke leaned up against the driver's side of his Taurus, he could see Neal crossing the parking lot towards him, and he gave a little wave to hurry him along. It was a beautiful sunny spring day, and the brightness of the day was reflected in his partner's blue eyes. It had been three months since Neal had been nearly killed in a plot by the local mob; if Peter closed his eyes he could still see himself sitting in the ambulance watching as Neal's heart had stopped. Peter smiled to himself, glad to see the spring returning to the young man's step. It had been a long road of rehab and physical therapy, and today was his last day; it was no wonder Neal looked so elated. Peter knew these sessions took a lot out of him, although it had been getting better lately.

"Come on, slow poke. We got work to do." Peter called out, when Neal was about half way to him. He planned on stopping off for a celebratory lunch before heading back to the office, the pile of mortgage and insurance fraud cases could wait.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Neal didn't speed up any; the last thing he wanted to do was sit around and read through another mortgage fraud case. What he would give for a good art heist; the cases they had been working lately were enough to put him to sleep.

Peter saw Neal gasp for air, his eyes frantically looking over at Peter, then down. He stumbled forward a few steps, and then Peter heard it. The report of a sniper's rifle. He ran towards Neal, catching him before he could hit the ground, and dragging him back towards the car. Peter eased Neal down to the ground next to the Taurus, squatting beside him to take cover. Neal's eyes were quickly becoming glassy, and a dark red stain was forming on the left side of his abdomen. Peter slipped off is coat, balling it up and pressing it to the wound.

"p…tr.." Neal coughed, a bit of blood appearing on his lower lip.

"It's OK Neal. You're OK." He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. "This is Special Agent Burke. Shots fired at St. Mary's Rehabilitation Center. 35 Medical Drive. I have an agent down."

* * *

**Author's Note: Soooo... I'm thinking about tying this in to the previous story... tell me what you think... yes, no, are you sick of it yet? ;)**


	2. Chapter 1

I don't own White Collar, or the characters. If I did, I wouldn't have to entertain myself this way ;-)

Chapter One

Peter sat in the hard white plastic chair, looking at the cheep print of a Thomas Cole landscape. He had seen the painting one too many times by now, he knew every inch of it from the number of times he had been in this room lately; but every time he looked away from it, he saw the blood all over him, Neal's blood. He put his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands; he didn't dare close his eyes, for fear of seeing Neal's frantic blue eyes looking back at him. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out how they had gotten back to this point.

"Peter?" He recognized Elizabeth's voice as she came up behind him. He could hear the concern in her voice. He didn't look up at her, he wasn't sure that he could.

"Peter…" Elizabeth walked around the row of chairs, so that she could face her husband. She couldn't contain the gasp, as she caught sight of him. "Peter…you're not…"

"No, El. I'm fine. None of this is mine. It's all…" He let the sentence trail off. Elizabeth put a hand up to her mouth, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were bombarding her.

"I brought you a change of clothes. Why don't you go ask if they have a shower you can use?" Her hand shook as she handed him the duffle bag she was holding.

Peter just nodded. He was grateful that he didn't have to say anything. He never had to say anything, she always just knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She would be here when he got back; to comfort him, to hold him in her arms and tell him everything would be alright, just like she always did. She was a strong intelligent woman, and he loved that about her. He took the bag, and left the room; he could feel everybody watching him, with his clothes soaked in blood, he imagined they thought he should be in the ER not the waiting room. A hand grabbed him from behind, making him recoil.

"Sir…Sir…are you hurt?" The voice was soft and feminine. He turned to face her, the world seemingly moving in slow motion. She was short and blonde, soft blue eyes staring back at his slightly daze brown ones. "Sir…let me get you some help…"

"He's alright, Meredith." Peter heard Dr. Matthews familiar voice. A strange feeling of embarrassment washed over him; how many times was he going to let Neal get hurt and Dr. Matthews have to pick up the pieces?

"Dr. Matthews…" His own voice sounded unfamiliar to him, it was unsteady and distant. He felt the man reach down and take the duffle bag from his hand.

"Walk with me, Peter." Dr. Matthews put a hand under his arm, nodding to the nurse to dismiss her, and leading Peter out of the ER.

"Neal…" It was all Peter could get out, he was starting to fear the worst. He let the doctor lead him on, his brain not processing where they were going.

"They've pushed four units of plasma to try and stabilize him. They're prepping him for surgery right now." He opened the door in front of him, pulling Peter into a small room.

"I will come find you when we get done." Dr. Matthews patted him on the shoulder, and exited leaving Peter alone.

Peter looked around the room. It was bright and cheery, with its soft yellow walls and blue tiled floor. Lockers lined the left side of the room, and a bench ran down along in front of them. Ahead and to the right he could see toilet stalls and sinks, and a couple of showers all the way at the end. He stared in front of him for a minute, finally realizing that he had been brought to the doctor's locker room. He slowly wandered to one of the showers, stripping off his ruined clothes, and turning on the hot water. He slid down the shower wall until he was sitting on the floor, shivering while the hot water rained down on him.

.

Peter felt numb as he changed into the blue jeans, cotton t-shirt, and FBI sweatshirt that Elizabeth had brought him from home. He found a spare trash bag under one of the sinks, and wrapped up the blood soaked clothes, placing them back into the duffle bag, unsure of what to do with them. The walk back to the waiting room was short, but overwhelming. As he entered, he saw June sitting with Elizabeth, their backs towards him. June had always treated Neal like a son, even though he rented her apartment; Peter was glad she was here, but wasn't sure if he could face her. He just wanted to crawl into a hole. The little nurse from earlier, Peter remembered her name was Meredith, was standing with them; she spotted him as he came through the doorway.

"Oh good…Peter." He saw Elizabeth and June turn to face him as Meredith uttered his name. "Dr. Matthews asked me to take you to a private waiting room. If you will all follow me."

Elizabeth didn't say a word, she just crossed to him and placed an arm around his waist, holding him tight. They let June and the nurse lead the way down a long corridor, through a few sliding glass doors, and into another room. This one was painted the same soft yellow as the locker room was, with blue carpeting, and upholstered arm chairs. There was a coffee pot sitting on a counter next to a sink, with a small dorm refrigerator underneath. Peter had to wonder if they brought people here, so that they couldn't make a scene when they told them their family member was dead. Dead. The word made him shutter again, he couldn't get the thought out of his head.

"Peter…are you alright?" Elizabeth finally spoke, placing a hand on the side of his face. He blinked a few times, noticing the nurse had left.

"I'm…" His glanced over to June who was sitting in a chair watching him, and back to Elizabeth. "I'm…not sure."

"Oh sweetie." Elizabeth wrapped both arms around him tightly; he could hear soft sniffles as she buried her head into his chest. He laid his head down on top of hers, holding her close; there were no words to express the fear they both felt.

"Peter." June called his name, getting his attention, and motioned for him to bring Elizabeth and sit down in the chair next to hers.

He complied, leading Elizabeth over to the big blue chair, sitting down and pulling her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head back on his chest. He glanced over at June, who was watching them with what could only be described as motherly concern. He had to turn away, how could he explain what had happened, when he still didn't even really know? It was only just past lunch time, but he was exhausted. He struggled against the desire to shut his eyes. He knew what dreams waited for him. He sat for a few minutes, listening to Elizabeth's breathing, his body finally giving in, and fell asleep.

.

_Neal was walking towards him, his blue eyes playfully twinkling in the bright spring sunlight._

"_Come on slow poke." He heard himself say. Neal's eyes flashed with pain and confusion, stumbling towards him, bloody hands outstretched._

"_Peter…how could you let this happen?" _

_He then saw himself standing over top of Neal, who was lying on the ground in a large puddle of blood staring up at him with glassy eyes._

"_I'm dead Peter. You didn't stop it. Why didn't you protect me?"_

_Peter screamed for help, but no one came. There was just darkness, and a voice._

"_I'm dead Peter. I'm dead because of you."_


	3. Chapter 2

I don't own White Collar or the characters, if I did I'd have better ways to entertain myself ;-)

Chapter Two

Elizabeth offered June a worried look, as she tried to wake her husband. His body quivered, and he was yelling in his sleep. She knew he was tormented by the afternoon's events, but was still unsure of what had actually happened, he hadn't been willing to talk about it. She had wanted to let him sleep, until the nightmare had started.

"Peter…Peter…wake up." She shook him a little harder, his body jerking and recoiling into the chair before he realized it was her.

"Elizabeth?" She noticed he seemed confused. His eyes softened a bit as she smiled soothingly at him.

"Maybe you should call a nurse…" June offered, concerned at Peters obvious disorientation.

"No…no…I'm fine." He shook his head to clear his mind, the nightmare still lingering in his consciousness. "Just need some coffee."

"I'll get it." June patted his arm, crossing to the kitchenette on the other side of the room.

"Peter, are you sure you're alright?" Elizabeth watched him with apprehension, worried that the stress of the morning was putting him into shock.

"No. Yes. I'm fine." He took the coffee June was holding out for him. "Thank you, June."

Peter sipped the coffee as he watched Elizabeth eyeing him carefully. He had to be strong, for her; they were both barely holding it together, and he didn't want to add to her anxiety. He glanced at his watch, it was past four.

"Any news?" He asked warily.

"No." Elizabeth shook her head. "Diana stopped by about an hour ago; she was on her way back to the office. She said she would call you later."

Peter nodded, and thoughtfully continued to sip at his coffee. He was sorry to have missed talking with Diana, he would have to call her soon and find out if they had found anything. For now, he trusted her and the rest of his team to do the job. If there was anything at the crime scene to shed light on what had happened, they would find it. He wanted to be here, no, he needed to be here for Neal.

There was a soft knock on the door, it opened very slowly, and Meredith poked her head in.

"I'm just making sure you're all still here. Dr. Matthew's is on his way down." She eased the door shut again, and was gone. Peter just stared at the closed door in silence; he wasn't sure what to feel.

Elizabeth saw his conflicted expression, and sat on the arm of the chair, placing an arm around his shoulders.

"He's going to be alright, Peter. He's a fighter." She leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, averting her eyes so that he couldn't see the uncertainty in them. He nodded without looking up at her.

"I know. Neal could probably con the devil himself." Peter hoped it hadn't come down to that.

The three sat in silence for the next ten minutes, waiting; the air in the room felt thick with tension. Peter couldn't sit still any longer, and got up to pace. His stomach growled; a sickening feeling was starting to take hold of him. The feeling was joined by one of dread, when another knock came on the door. This time it opened to reveal Dr. Matthews. The young surgeon, who normally had a confident air about him, was looking unusually worn, Peter noticed.

"Dr. Matthews."

"Agent Burke." The doctor motioned for him to sit down with the group. Peter could feel his stomach tie itself in a knot when he was addressed so formally.

Peter sat in his chair, Elizabeth still sitting on the arm. The room went silent as the doctor collected his thoughts.

"Neal survived the surgery." The doctor sucked in a breath of air, as Peter let his out. "I need to warn you, his condition is critical right now. The massive blood loss was created when a portion of the bullet cut through his aortic artery. Additional fragments of the bullet damaged parts of his colon and small intestine, and a large piece lodged itself in his pelvis. He was very lucky. We were able repair the damage, and I think we have most of the bleeding stopped."

"What are his chances?" Elizabeth asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Well…" The doctor visibly let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Because he was so close to the hospital when this happened, and we were able to get him up to surgery so quickly, I would say his chances are good. But, we will know more tomorrow. He is on a ventilator, and a morphine drip until he regains consciousness, and then we will have to re-evaluate. It's hard to know much at this point. He's being moved into the ICU, room five this time."

Peter watched as the two women stood up, anxious to head to Neal's room. He held up a finger to the doctor, letting him know he still wanted to talk.

"El, you and June go on up ahead. I'll be right there." Elizabeth nodded, slightly confused, but complied, leaving Peter and Dr. Matthews alone.

"Hollow Point?" Peter turned back to the surgeon.

"Most likely. I've saved you all the fragments we could find." The doctor pulled a small plastic jar out of his pocket, handing it to Peter.

"It seems I owe you again, Dr. Matthews." He took the jar with the bloody bullet pieces, and slipped it into the duffle bag with his clothes; he would let the team sort it all out. He stood, and held a hand out. The young surgeon stood, and shook it, looking Peter in the eye.

"It's Evan. And, please, don't hesitate to page me if you need anything. I'm on the floor until eight, and then I'm on call for the night. Otherwise I will see you during morning rounds at six."

Peter nodded, and followed him out the door in silence.

.

As Peter approached Neal's room the blinds guarding the front glass wall were open, and he could see Elizabeth and June sitting on either side of the bed. Knowing that Neal was being seen to, he walked back out of the ICU and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Diana, she answered on the second ring.

"Hey Boss, how's Neal?"

"He's out of surgery, but he's still critical. What did you guys find at the scene?"

"Not much. The crime lab calculated the trajectory of the bullet, and we searched the roof top, but we came up empty. No brass and no fingerprints."

"Alright. I've got the bullet fragments. Come by and pick them up, and get them into the lab. We'll start there."

"Sure thing, boss." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, call and get a guard posted on his door. Someone we know."

"Will do. I'll see you in a bit." The line went dead, and Peter just stared at the phone for a minute. As much as he worried about Neal, he was terrified to go into that room.

When Peter reached Neal's room again, he noticed that June was gone. Elizabeth held Neal's right hand in hers, her back to the door. He watched as she reached up and slowly brushed a piece of hair that had fallen, away from his face. He had to smile, despite himself. He could remember the first day he had seen Neal, a felon, sitting on the couch with his wife. It had terrified him. But now, Neal was part of the family, a strange mixture of younger brother and son. His brilliant mind was constantly getting him in and out of trouble, but somehow the antics only made him more endearing. As he entered through the door, he could hear the sound of the heart monitor beeping away slowly, accompanied by the pump of the ventilator. The two sounds were both heart wrenching and comforting at the same time.

"How is he?" It was a rhetorical question, but he asked anyway.

"He's in pain. He keeps rolling his head and moaning." She turned her blue eyes up towards him; they were red, and filled with tears she was barely keeping back. "I called the nurse; they said he's already up to his limit on the Morphine."

"I'm sure he's fine El." He put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. He hoped Neal was fine. "I'll sit with him, why don't you go see if you can find us something to eat?"

Elizabeth slowly looked back and forth between Peter and Neal a few times, fighting an inner battle.

"Alright. I'll go." She patted Neal's hand before laying it on the sheets. "I'll be right back."

Peter sat down in the chair that Elizabeth had been occupying. He looked at Neal in silence for a moment. His face was pale, but every so often his eye lids would flutter, and his head would twitch.

"Sorry, I know you like her company. She needed a break." Neal's right index finger twitched ever so slightly. Peter gently wrapped his hand around Neal's. "I'm right here, buddy."

.

Peter woke to a knock on the door; he looked around the dim room, trying to get his bearings. He hadn't realized he'd dozed off. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes and checked his watch; it was a few minutes till eight. He vaguely remembered eating with Elizabeth and her going home to check on the dog, or Diana stopping by to pick up his duffle bag. He turned his head to find Dr. Matthews standing in the doorway.

"I just thought I'd stop in and check on him before I went for dinner." Dr. Matthews crossed to Neal's bed, checking the monitors behind Peter.

"How's he doing?"

"His blood pressure is stabilizing, that's a good sign. Everything else looks like its right where it needs to be."

"How long do you think before he wakes up?" Peter kept his eyes on his friend; the color was indeed starting to come back to his face.

"Well, the level of Morphine he's on is probably keeping him asleep. Right now that's good; his body is getting a chance to start healing itself. We won't start weaning him down to a lower dose until the morning." He placed a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. "You should get some sleep yourself."

"I will. Thank you Evan." He watched as the doctor left the room, and then leaned his head back against the chair. He would just close his eyes until Elizabeth got back.


	4. Chapter 3

I don't own White Collar, or the characters; if I did, I would have better ways of entertaining myself. ;-)

**Author's Note: For those that are wondering, this story is following "A Way Through The Darkness". It took a week to get the outside of the house painted, and now it's raining, sooo I haven't been able to ride. I'm sure Neal is praying for decent weather ;-)**

Chapter Three

Peter lifted his head, trying to crack the knot out of his neck; the clock on the wall said four thirty. Elizabeth was asleep in the armchair in the corner of the room. The last thing he could remember was talking with Dr. Matthews, while he was waiting for Elizabeth to return; he hadn't realized he had fallen asleep. He was grateful it had been a dreamless sleep, although he didn't feel any better for having had it. The blinds on the front wall had been shut, and the room was dark except for a small table lamp. He stood slowly, stretching the kinks out of his sore muscles. He let his eyes rest on Neal, the ventilator was still in place, but his skin tone was back to normal. Just maybe, he thought, he could sneak out and get a coffee from the vending machine.

As Peter turned, and took a step away from the bed, he heard a moan come from behind him. He glanced back to find Neal slowly shifting his head from side to side, eyes still closed; his right hand absently batting at the ventilator tube. Peter stepped back to the bed, hitting the nurse's call button, and grabbing Neal's hand.

"Hey, buddy. It's OK." He placed his free hand on Neal's forehead, smoothing his hair back away from his face. "You're alright, I'm here."

Peter heard the nurse come in behind him, but he didn't turn to face her.

"Could you please page Dr. Matthews?"

"What's the problem?" Peter could hear a hint of impatience in her voice.

"I think he's starting to wake up." He turned to look at her; she was a short heavy set older lady. She huffily walked over and checked all the monitors. "That tube seems to be bothering him."

"He's fine. Everything looks normal right now. Calling me in here for nothing." She grumbled. Her stance exuded annoyance. "When and if something changes, I will page someone."

"Either page Dr. Matthews _now_, or get me your supervisor." Peter hardened his expression, not wanting to raise his voice and wake Elizabeth.

The nurse turned and left the room without another word. Peter sat back down in his chair, not letting go of his grip on Neal's hand; watching as the head shaking increased. He tried desperately to calm his unconscious younger partner, but nothing seemed to help. Neal's head finally came to a rest looking towards Peter, his eyes fluttered, and slowly opened. A look of confusion crossed his face, followed by a flash of panic in his blue eyes.

"It's OK, Neal." Peter held on as Neal tried to jerk free of his grip. "You're OK. The doctor's on his way."

Peter reached up and tussled Neal's hair and he felt Neal's body relax ever so slightly. Neal motioned to the ventilator with his free hand, his blue eyes questioning. Peter heard him try to say something around the tube, but it just came out as a mumble.

"Don't try and talk. Dr. Matthews will be here in a minute."

.

Peter took the opportunity to grab himself a cup of coffee out of the vending machine, while Dr. Matthews removed Neal's ventilator tube. When he got back, he found Elizabeth and the doctor sitting on either side of the bed, the big clunky tube replaced with a thin nasal oxygen tube. Half of the bed had been raised so Neal was partially sitting up. His normally bright eyes were slightly glazed over from the medication, but he was alert; Peter drew in a long slow breath, exhaling with a sigh. He walked over and pulled up a chair next to the Elizabeth, offering her some of the black sludge the vending machine had poured out.

"Well, I'm gonna take off. I'll be back later when I do my rounds." Dr. Matthews walked around the bed to where Peter was sitting, handing him a business card with a phone number hand written on the back. "If you need me again."

"Thank you…." The doctor nodded in response, and left. Peter just stared at the business card for a minute, suddenly feeling quite guilty again. He could feel Neal watching him.

"p…tr" Neal's voice was quiet and hoarse.

"Neal…" Peter finally looked up at Neal; his remorse wrenching him as he watched Neal's head sway just a little as he tried to hold it up.

"not…ur…f…lt." Neal let his head fall back on the pillow, but kept his eyes on Peter.

"I'm going to find who did this Neal, and I'm going to make them pay." Peter tried desperately to stuff down the anger that was starting to build inside of him. He felt Elizabeth reach over and place her hand on his arm, giving it a comforting little squeeze.

"Peter, honey…"

"El…g…ve…us…a…mn…ute…" Neal held up a finger to ask for a minute alone.

"Sure Neal." Elizabeth stood, turning and giving Peter a cautionary look before leaving the room.

"tr…ble…" Neal pointed at Peter.

"Only because you get me in it." Peter moved his chair closer to Neal.

"you…ha…ve…any…th…ng?"

"Nothing." Peter studied the pattern on the floor for a minute before looking back at Neal. "We'll find them."

"thnk…it…'Lu…ca?"

"DeLuca?" Peter felt his breath catch a little as he spoke the name. "God, Neal. I hope not."

Peter's mind wandered back to the incident three months before; a chill ran through him at the thought. Neal had been a key player in building the case again Anthony DeLuca Junior, but a dirty FBI agent had misinformed them, and Neal had been kidnapped, tortured, and left in a snow bank to die. When he had survived, the same dirty agent had tried to kill Neal himself. They had been lucky to get Anthony DeLuca Senior locked up for the attempted murder charges, giving the Organized Crime division enough time to sort through the mess and build their case. That case was supposed to be presented in the courts next week. The extent of the criminal organization was still unknown, but they did know of at least one other FBI agent that had been involved, and another that had gotten killed.

"you…th…ght…of…th…t…al…redy."

"The thought had crossed my mind." Peter paused, and took a breath; he needed to change the subject. Neal didn't need to be thinking about all that right now. "You doing alright?"

"shhhuurrrrr…" Neal gave a goofy smile and held up the controller for the PCA pump that was delivering the morphine. "juss…fine."

Peter watched as Neal's eyes fluttered, and then stayed closed, the pain medicine making him drowsy. He gently eased himself up out of the chair; he thought he might be able step out and find Elizabeth and maybe a decent cup of coffee while Neal slept.

"p…tr?" The small voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Yeah, Neal?"

"be…he…re…wyn…i…wa…ke…up?" Neal mumbled with his eyes still closed. Peter sighed; the coffee would have to wait.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm not going anywhere." He returned to the chair, leaning his head back, and closing his own eyes.

.

_Peter found himself down at Old Howard Beach again; the snow had melted, and it was a beautiful sunny day. But, Peter wasn't enjoying it. As he walked down the embankment to the beach, to his left he could see where a sheet had been a laid out to cover a body, the red blood soaking through it was a stark contrast to the crisp white of the linen. Dread coiled in his stomach as he flashed his badge to the officers standing nearby. He watched as the sheet was carefully pulled back, exposing a familiar face._

"_Oh God, Neal." He felt anger flush through him. "No, you're not dead. You didn't die here."_

_Everything went black as he screamed. He could hear a sinister laugh behind him, he turned but no one was there._

"_You can't save him Agent Burke, no one can." The familiar voice came out of the darkness. "He was never going to be anything but felon. He was dragging you down, you should be thanking me."_

"_Diana killed you, Henry. Neal's alive, but you're not."_

"_Is he?" The voice just laughed as it faded; Peter was suddenly very cold, he was shivering but there was nowhere to go everything was covered in darkness._


	5. Chapter 4

I don't own White Collar, or the characters. If I did...we wouldn't have to wait until Jan!

Chapter Four

"_Peter…" Neal's blue eyes looked up at him, one hand outstretched. "Help me." _

_Peter watched as Neal fell to his knees, blood soaking through his clothes._

"_Help me, Peter."_

Peter was awakened by Elizabeth shaking him lightly. He blinked a few times to clear his mind, finding himself staring at his wife, and the doctor.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" Elizabeth's blue eyes showed her concern.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He scrubbed his hands over his face. He checked his watch and then looked up at Dr. Matthews. "How's the kid?"

"He looks good. We've switched his pain meds, so he should be a little more coherent when he wakes back up." The doctor squatted down next to Peter, looking him in the eyes. "Peter, are you sure you're alright?"

Peter just nodded, he felt a little mortified, not knowing what they had seen or heard while he was sleeping.

"If the nightmares get worse, please let me know. I'll give you something." Dr. Matthews patted him on the shoulder and excused himself.

Peter watched him leave, and let out a deep breath. It was just barely past six, he would have to wait another hour before Diana would be in at the office. He was hoping that they would have the preliminary findings on the bullet back this morning. At the least they would have a starting point to work with. Right now, they had nothing, and all he could do was sit here.

"Sweetie…" Elizabeth bent down and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He shook his head, but the words came tumbling out anyway. "I just keep seeing his face El, that look of panic in his eyes, right after the bullet hit. And I keep thinking back to…"

"You guys think it might be DeLuca." Peter wasn't surprised she had figured it out. She was one of the smartest women he knew, that's why he loved her.

"That's what my gut is telling me. That it's connected somehow." Elizabeth rubbed her hands up and down his arms.

"Well, your guts not usually wrong."

"Yeah, but this could get real ugly again if I'm right." And that was what he wanted to avoid. Elizabeth moved to the chair next to Peter, looking into his eyes.

"I know you. You and Neal, you're the two smartest guys in the office. You will figure this out." Peter looked over at Neal. He just hoped he could figure it out before something else happened. "Why don't you take a break from here, meet up with Diana. You know you'll feel better when you have some answers. I'll sit with Neal, and I can call you if anything happens."

.

Peter sat behind his desk with his back to the rest of the office, gazing out the large windows on the back wall at the city beneath him. It wasn't as nice as Neal's view from the apartment, but it was still pretty spectacular. The sun was still coming up, shades of red and gold filtered through the tall buildings, making all the glass windows twinkle. He balled up a fist, putting his lips to it, and using it to prop his head up. He heard Diana come into the office, but he didn't turn to face her, he needed to collect himself first.

"How's Neal?" Peter took a breath, and swiveled around to meet her gaze.

"He's was awake a little earlier, he's still pretty medicated, although Dr. Matthews seems encouraged with his progress." Peter's eyes rested on the yellow folder she was carrying. "You got something?"

"Ballistics came back on that bullet. It's a .308 Hollow Point." She looked at Peter, her eyes showing her concern.

"That's a big bullet." Peter took the file from her. "What else we got?"

"You're not going to like this." Diana reached down and flipped the page for Peter. "The data base says the rifling pattern is consistent with a FN-SPR."

"Shit. That's what our teams use." Peter read the information in front of him.

"Yeah, but we can't know for sure without the gun or the brass."

"Alright, let's make sure all our SWAT's guns are accounted for." Peter let out a sign, leaning back in his chair.

"Sure thing boss."

"And Diana." Peter held up a finger to ask her to wait. "Let's find out where the DeLuca's are this week."

"On it." With that she left the office.

Peter sat staring at the file in front of him. He desperately hoped that they wouldn't find another dirty agent associated with Neal's shooting. That was a fairly common gun, he reminded himself. A knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts; he looked up to find his boss, Reese Hughes standing in front of him.

"Peter…"

"Reese…" He had known the man a long time, and felt comfortable calling him by his first name when the other agents weren't around.

"How's Neal?" The tall slender older man walked over and sat on the edge of the desk; Peter reclined a little in his chair, keeping his eyes on his boss.

"He was awake a little this morning. Dr. Matthews says everything is looking good."

"You sound worried."

"Well…you know it's hard to really tell with all those drugs they've got him on." He watched his superior nod in agreement.

"Keep me in the loop." He pointed to the yellow folder on the desk, and left the office.

Peter sat in the quiet of the office, looking out through the front glass wall at the other desks beneath him. Diana was at her desk on the phone, as were some of the other agents. But Neal's desk was empty. It was strange how he couldn't imagine doing this job without the ex-con these days. He had become so much more than just a consultant. He was part of the team, he was his partner, and he and Elizabeth loved him like family. He suddenly felt the urge to return to the hospital; without anymore leads to follow up, he decided to head that way.

.

When Peter finally reached Neal's room, the front shades had been opened again, and he could see that the bed had been pulled up so that Neal was sitting up, but his eyes were closed. He also noticed Elizabeth was gone, and wondered where she had run off to. He quietly let himself in; placing the coffee and muffins he had bought down on the table, and shrugged of his coat. When he turned back to face the bed, two hazy blue eyes stared back at him.

"Heeey Buddyyyy." Neal let a goofy smirk creep over his face.

"Where's Elizabeth?" He grabbed a cup of coffee, and sat down in the nearest chair.

"Oh…she had to go…wouldn't want those fish eggs to spoil…" He bounced a finger in Peter's direction. "Would be a _désastre,_ you know."

"Oh…look at you." Peter smiled into his cup, and took a sip.

"What did you find out?" Neal let his arm fall gently back to the bed. Peter shook his head.

"Not much."

"Peter…you were gone for hours." Neal tried his best to look stern and serious, but he wasn't sure he was pulling it off.

"Ballistics said the bullet was a .308 hollow point."

"Wow. You needed a crime lab to tell you that?" Neal rolled his eyes a little. He knew that Peter was withholding information, but he decided to let it go for know.

Peter saw pain, and something he didn't recognize flash through Neal's blue eyes, and the color of his face paled slightly.

"Neal? You OK?"

"Don't feel so good." Neal's eyes were getting dull and glassy. He suddenly leaned over the side of the bed, vomiting onto the floor.

"Let me get a nurse." He leapt forward, pushing Neal back up onto the bed. As he reached for the call button, one of the monitors started screaming. "Neal?"

"p…tr…don…fe…el…sss…g…ddd…"

Peter heard feet rushing through the door behind him, he looked up to see three nurses, followed by a man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat, who he assumed was a doctor.

"What happened?" The doctor pushed Peter out of the way, silencing the alarm, and checking Neal's pupils with a flash light. "His blood pressure is spiking."

"I don't know. He just said he didn't feel good." Peter could feel one of the nurses pulling him back towards the door. He tried to pull his arm loose. "No, I want to stay."

"He's thrown a clot. Get him to the Cath. Lab." The doctor ordered; the nurse finished pulling Peter from the room.

Nurses in pink scrubs were running every which way, the room was filled with chaos. Neal was quickly transferred to a gurney, and they whisked him out to the elevator, Peter grabbed the doctor's arm as we ran by.

"Where's Dr. Matthews?"

"He's still in surgery. Wait here." The doctor pulled free and was gone, leaving Peter standing outside the empty room.

Peter reached down and found the business card he had been given that morning, pulling it out of his pocket. He stared at it for a brief minute, then took out his cell phone and dialed the number.


	6. Chapter 5

I don't own White Collar or the characters, just having some fun with them until January!

Chapter Five

Peter sat alone in the empty I.C.U. room, sipping on a cold cup of coffee. He checked his watch, Neal had been gone nearly forty-five minutes, and there was still no word. He picked up his cell phone off the table, finding he still had no messages, he tried Elizabeth again; she picked up on the third ring.

"Hey honey, I got your message, is Neal OK?"

"I still haven't heard anything, and they said Dr. Matthews was still in surgery." He fidgeted with the paper cup in his hand as he talked.

"Well, then who's with Neal?" Peter could hear china being stacked in the background. "Hang on… _no…that's the Wedgewood…you guys were supposed to bring the Royal Albert… no it's not the same…_ _well then you're going to have to go back and get it…_ … Sorry honey, I'm back."

"Sounds like things aren't going well there." He was glad for the distraction.

"Things down here are a mess. I might be here awhile. Who's taking care of Neal?"

"Oh…whatever doctor was on call for the ICU today. I think the nurse said his name was Groel." Peter wasn't sure he liked this new doctor, but he wasn't going to tell Elizabeth that.

"Well, I'm sure it will be fine…oh god…Peter I've got to go."

"Alright, Love you."

"Love you too." The line went dead, and Peter just stared at the phone for a minute.

He wished she was here; the walls of this empty room were starting to close it on him. He sat the phone back on the table, next to the two empty coffee cups, and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of his own breath; he was exhausted from the stress and not sleeping well, but he didn't dare close his eyes again. After a few long minutes, he heard soft footsteps come through the door behind him. He leaned up in the chair, turning his head and shoulders so he could see who it was.

"Hey, Peter." Dr. Mathews finished crossing the room, handing Peter one of the cups he was carrying. "This is a little better than what comes out of the vending machine."

"Thanks, Evan." Peter took the coffee, motioning to the chair next to him.

"Thanks." The doctor sat down, letting out a long sigh, obviously glad to get off of his feet. Peter watched as he slowly took a sip of his drink; he was still dressed in green scrubs, his hair was slicked back, damp with sweat, and his eyes looked drained. "I talked with Jarrod Groel. They're still in the Cath. Lab. Neal's doing OK."

"I guess I'm still not sure what happened." Peter settled himself back into the chair, comforted by the doctor's presence.

"Apparently the blood thinners we had Neal on, aren't working for him, and we think he formed a large clot where we repaired the damaged artery. When the clot let go, it moved down into one of the smaller veins in his abdomen, where it got stuck. It's what we call an embolism." The doctor paused, taking another drink. "We were lucky that Dr. Groel recognized it as quickly as he did."

"So what now, surgery again?" Peter could feel a knot forming in his gut.

"No." The surgeon gave a weak smile. "They're removing the clot now, and we will have to switch medications. It doesn't look like it caused any damage, so it shouldn't affect him at all."

"Good. Well, I appreciate you coming." Peter sipped his coffee and averted his eyes. "And, your taking care of Neal _again_."

"Peter, there is something else I want to ask you about, now that we're alone." The doctor leaned over closer to him. "You're having night terrors, aren't you?"

Peter kept his eyes on the floor, exhaling a long sigh, he gave a little nod.

"Peter, you shouldn't be embarrassed. Seeing someone you obviously care about, get shot in front of you is traumatic. I would be more concerned, if it wasn't affecting you." The doctor kept his eyes on Peter, but let the statement linger in the air for a few minutes.

"This wasn't supposed to happen again." He was surprised to hear himself say it.

"Peter, what happened three months ago was traumatic as well. And I don't get the feeling that Neal, or Elizabeth, want you beating yourself up over it. They're both worried about you, you know."

"I just..." He gripped the cup in his hands tighter as his hands started to tremble. "Neal didn't deserve any of this. He's not a violent person. He was just doing his job. Hell, it's not really even his job."

"Look, Peter, I know you can't really talk about what's going on, but I want to help if I can. So, you let me worry about Neal, and you focus on finding who's doing this." The doctor stood and pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. "Get some decent sleep. You'll feel more like yourself."

After Dr. Matthews had left, Peter sat turning the little orange bottle over in his fingers. The doctor was right about one thing, he didn't feel like himself, and he hated it. He set the bottle down on the table, and crossed the room, gazing out the window, at the city. It was just past lunch time, and the city was bustling about below him. His cell phone beeped to let him know he had received a text, and he reached down to his pocket to pull it out, realizing he had left it on the table. He reluctantly walked back over, and picked it up.

Both DeLuca's still in prision.

Senior had visit from lawyer this week.

All SWAT weapons accounted for, one box of ammo missing.

Peter felt his free hand clench, anger rising up inside of him. It was starting to look like the corruption went deeper than they had thought. He was about to text back when he heard the door to the room open. He turned to see the nurses bringing Neal back in. He slipped his phone back into his pocket; he would sneak out and call her later. Peter watched as they had gently helped Neal back into his bed, and left the room.

"P…tr…"

"Hey buddy. You had me worried there for a minute." Peter pulled his chair back closer to the bed and sat down.

"Whe...rsss…El?" His blue eyes were still dull from the anesthetics.

"She's still taking care of those fish eggs. Remember?"

"ye…ah…I…mem…ber…" Neal shut his eyes and sighed.

.

Peter waited until he was sure Neal was asleep, and then stepped out of the room to make his phone call. He checked to make sure the guard was still sitting outside the door , before he left the ICU. As he headed down the hallway to look for a private place to make his call, he saw Diana exit the elevator.

"Diana. I was just calling you."

"Yeah, I thought I'd just come down and bring you what we have so far." She handed him the yellow file folder, which had gotten thicker since the morning.

"I want you to have our slug matched against the SWAT's rifles."

"I'm already on it. They're having a fit. Hughes left a few minutes ahead of me to go down there."

"Alright. Let me know what he finds out." Peter tucked the file under his arm; he would look through it later.

"How's Neal?"

"He gave us a scare a little while ago, but he's doing better now." He paused, looking towards the ICU, and then back towards Diana. "Do me a favor. Let's keep Organized Crime in the dark on this for a little while; shake the tree, see what falls out."

"Sure, Boss. Tell Neal I said 'Hi'". She put a hand on Peter's arm. "And get some sleep. You look like hell."

Peter nodded, and watched her walk back to the elevators. He was glad to have her on his team; he knew he could always count on her. He stopped off at the vending machines, grabbing himself a bag of pretzels and a coke, before heading back to Neal's room. He checked to make sure Neal was still asleep before he crossed to the sofa on the far side of the room, propping himself up with pillows, and opened the file that Diana had given him.


	7. Chapter 6

I don't own White Collar, or the characters, if I did, I'm sure I'd have better ways of entertaining myself ;-)

**A/N: Sorry the updates are coming slowly, I'm finally back to work, and playing catch-up. This story is turning out to be more of a sequel than I had originally intented, so, I hope you guys are still enjoying!**

Chapter Six

_Elizabeth woke him up, whispering to him that there was someone downstairs. He was sure it was just probably Neal up and about, but in order to appease his wife, he rolled over, reaching his arm out to turn on the light. Before he could find the switch, he heard a bang from the floor below; the dog let out a deep guttural growl. Satchmo wouldn't be growling at Neal. Peter felt his body tense, and instead of turning on the light, he dropped his hand down, pulling open the drawer of the bedside table, removing his sub-compact Glock and handing it to Elizabeth._

"_Stay with Neal." He whispered, motioning for her to keep quiet with a finger across his lips._

_He swung softly out of bed, un-holstering his service firearm that sat under the lamp. He quietly padded to the doorway, listening for any movement, before motioning Elizabeth down the hallway. As he crept down the stairs, he heard Neal whisper something behind him. If Neal was still upstairs, who was in the kitchen? He felt his body tense as he stepped off the last step, raising his weapon up in his right hand, gently supporting it with his left. As he came through the dining room he could see movement through the doorway of the kitchen, and then he heard someone whisper._

_The loud band of a gunshot pierced through the quiet house. Peter stumbled backwards, dropping the gun out of his hands, the house fading from his vision until he was standing in darkness. He looked down, blood seeping from his groin, coving his hands as he clutch them to the wound. He fell to his knees, struggling to keep himself upright, not wanting to give in. _

"_Peter…help…me…" He could hear Neal's voice in the distance behind him. "Peter…"_

"_You can't save him." He looked up to see Agent Henry standing over him, gun pointed down at his chest. "You can't stop what's already been set in motion."_

"_Why are you doing this?" Peter asked frantically._

"_You're both going to be dead, and it will all have been his fault. I told you, he's just bringing you down, Burke."_

"_Please…" He whispered…everything fading back into darkness._

Elizabethwas grateful to have finally sorted out all the problems with her staff, and to be headed back to the hospital. It was just past five as she got to Neal's room, and she found both men sound asleep. She dropped her bag on the table, and crossed to where Peter lay on the sofa, removing the file folder from his hands. She gently pulled the light throw blanket off the adjacent chair, unfolding it and covering Peter. As she bent down to kiss him, she could feel his body tremble slightly. She placed her hand on his forehead, finding it warm and damp with sweat.

"Please…Please…don't…" His voice was barely a whisper, as he violently shook his head from side to side.

"Peter?" Elizabeth shook his arm, trying to wake him. "Peter. Wake Up."

"El?" She heard Neal's quiet raspy voice from behind her. "What's wrong?"

"He's having a nightmare again." She replied, not turning from her efforts to wake Peter.

Peter's eyes flashed open, recoiling into the cushions of the couch; his body still trembling. He glanced from Elizabeth to Neal, and around the room, settling back on Elizabeth. He fought hard to steady himself, trying to hide his confusion. He could tell from the look on Elizabeth's face that he hadn't been successful.

"Neal…" She glanced over her shoulder. "Call the doctor."

"I'm fine, El. Just give me a minute." Peter slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, nearly doubling over as a wave of nausea rolled over him.

"You're not fine." She sat down on the cushion next to him, wrapping her arms around his still shaking body. "Just let Dr. Matthews look at you."

"I'm fine. I talked to him when he was here earlier."

"Yup, and I believe I gave you these." Peter looked up to see Dr. Matthews walking towards him, grabbing the pill bottle off the table. "Didn't take any I see."

Peter dropped his gaze to stare at the floor. He didn't want the stupid pills, and he certainly didn't want to talk about the dreams either.

"Peter…" The doctor's tone softened as he squatted down in front of Peter. "Have you had anything other than coffee in the last forty-eight hours?"

"I had a coke." He slowly brought his gaze up to meet the doctor's.

"That doesn't count." Dr. Matthews stood, and crossed back over to the table. He poured a cup of water from the pitcher, and walked back, handing it to Peter with two of the blue and white pills from the bottle. "I'm going to have a nurse come in and start an I.V. on you."

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked; her voice laced with concern.

"It looks like what we call Psychological Shock, which is being compounded by dehydration." He patted Peter on the shoulder. "Nothing to worry about, we'll fix you up."

"Thank you." Elizabeth's tone was appreciative.

"Peter, sit over here." Dr. Matthews pulled the big recliner out of the corner of the room, positioning it closer to Neal's bed. He pointed at Neal as he turned to leave the room. "I'll be back to check on _you_ in a little bit."

"Hey, I'm behaving." He gave a little smile, and a light hearted laugh, a slight pain causing him to fold an arm over his stomach.

"Yeah. Right. I see I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on the two of you." Dr. Matthews chuckled, and left the room.

Neal turned to Peter, who was sitting beside him; his blue eyes had a hint of mischief as he started to say something.

"Peter…

"Not a word." Peter held up a finger to stop Neal.

"But…"

"Nope."

.

Peter could feel the late morning sun on his face when he woke; he had slept like a rock the whole night. He pushed his arms above his head and stretched as he opened his eyes, letting a small yawn escape, he noticed that his I.V. had been removed at some point. Dr. Matthews was sitting on the edge of Neal's bed, the two of them staring back at him. Peter glanced around the room looking for Elizabeth, but not finding her.

"Hey sleepy head." Neal smiled, his voice sounding much clearer.

"Where's El?" He pulled himself up to the edge of the chair, so he was sitting more upright.

"She said she had to go take care of a client, and would be back in a little bit." Dr. Matthews kept a watchful eye on him. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Peter pointed at Neal. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, he's doing pretty good. I think he'll be able to go home in another day or two, as long as he promises to take it easy this time." The doctor smiled at Neal, and stood, pointing a finger at Peter. "One pill, twice a day 'till they're gone. And, take it easy on the coffee."

"I will…thank you." Peter watched the young surgeon leave, before turning back to Neal. "What are you smiling about?"

"Peter, it's so sweet. You do care." Neal's blue eyes twinkled.

"Keep it up. You look good in orange." Peter smiled back, glad to feel like himself again.

"Hey, my lips are sealed." Neal made a motion of zippering his lips. "Peter?"

"Yeah Neal?"

"You guys come up with anything?" Peter watched the levity fade from Neal's eyes. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell him.

"Nothing concrete." He hoped Neal would leave it at that.

"Peter…no secrets." He took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "Not after all this."

"The only lead we have is that there is a box of .308s missing from SWAT's lock up." Peter took one of the pills out of the bottle, swallowing it with a sip of water. "Hughes is wading through all the red tape trying to track down who it might have gone home with it."

"Another dirty agent." Neal's tone was soft and cautious.

"It's looking that way." Peter skimmed his eyes around the room, trying to locate the yellow folder Diana had brought over the day before, finding on the couch across the room. As Peter stood and started to move across the room, there was a knock on the door. He turned, seeing Diana on the other side of the glass; he motioned for her to come in.

"Hey boss." Her voice was slightly questioning; Peter followed her gaze down, seeing the hospital band on his wrist.

"I'm fine." He grabbed the band with his other hand, pulling it off and shoving it into his pocket. "What's up?"

Diana hesitated a moment, looking him over, trying to decide whether he was telling her the truth or not. She flicked her eyes over to Neal, who nodded corroboration back to her.

"We got the test fire results back on all the SWAT's rifles. No matches."

"Could be a personal weapon."

"Yeah, well, they just about all have their own personal arsenals."

"Alright, we're going to have to look at this another way." Peter moved back to his chair, sitting down, motioning for Diana to do the same. He watched Neal grimace slightly as he carefully pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Peter…" Neal's face suddenly grew very somber. Peter's phone rang in a text, and he held his hand up to stop Neal; a confused look coming across Peter's face.

MRS. SUIT MET AN ITALIAN TIGER

-DANTE HAVERSHAM

"Neal? What does this mean?" Peter handed the phone to Neal, he could feel a knot forming in his gut; he had a feeling he already knew.

"Oh my god…Peter." Neal's eyes flashed panic at Peter. "They've got Elizabeth."


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** **Sorry for the really long delay. We just finished with all the series finals for the year, and boy was I wiped out! But hopefully now I will be able to write more regularly again! I know this chapter is kinda short, but I wanted to give you guys SOMETHING -)**

I don't own White Collar, or the characters; just giving myself something to do until January.

Chapter Seven

"I'm confused." Diana watched her boss pace back and forth in Neal's room. "Who's Haversham? What tiger?"

"It's his little buddy." Peter spun, pointing a finger at Neal, fury burning in his eyes. "And how does he know? You better not being keeping anything from me, Neal…so help me…"

"Peter…" Neal's voice held the hurt he felt at the accusation. He would never do anything he thought would get Elizabeth hurt. Hadn't he proven that lately? He kept a wary eye on Peter, but looked over towards Diana. "Tiger, as in tiger kidnapping; a loved one is kidnapped in order to coerce a person to do something they don't want to do. I thought you feds were supposed to know about this stuff."

"Neal…that still doesn't explain how your little friend knows about it, and why specify tiger? How would he know anyway? It doesn't make sense." Peter flopped back down in his chair, running his hands roughly through his hair.

"I think it does." Neal felt his heart sink; thinking back to the night Agent Henry had tried to kill him, and what he had said. His eyes growing dark and cold. "They can't get near me with you and the guard here. If they switch the guard out, you'd notice. Now they have leverage."

"Leverage for wh…" Peter stopped himself, understanding what Neal had meant. "They want me gone so they have access to you."

"They know you'll put all your efforts into finding Elizabeth. Mozz will be at my place." Neal pointed to Diana when he saw Peter's look. "Diana can stay with me."

.

Elizabeth could feel her skin tingle as she shivered in the dark; the cold air hit her lungs like little needles. Her eyelids felt heavy as she desperately tried to raise them, franticly trying to free her arms that were tightly bound behind her. She couldn't see anything but darkness through the tiny slits that were her eyes. She let her eyes fall back shut, hoping to stop spinning and pounding in her head. All she could remember was someone grabbing her from behind, and holding a rag over her mouth and nose. Whatever drug they had given her was making her nauseous, and her throat was raw, even though she hadn't spoken a word. She hung her aching head down to her chest, her thoughts drifting to her husband and Neal. Did they even know she had been taken? She knew that they didn't expect her back until late. A warm tear slipped silently down her face as she thought of Peter, trying to hold on to the image of his face as consciousness started to elude her again.

.

Neal struggled to fight off the confusion as he opened his eyes to find the room completely dark. He blinked a few times, his eyes slowly acclimating to the lack of light, and glanced around the small space; his focus finally resting on a figure sitting motionless in the dark. Neal carefully eased himself up onto his elbows, and then reaching for the bed rail with his right hand, pulled himself upright, leaning forward trying to get a better look. He was forced to wrap his free arm around his torso as the effort caused a shot of pain to shiver through his body. The man's outline was barely visible, his body slumped back in the recliner chair, eyes closed; Neal figured from the soft breathing he must be asleep. He glanced at the clock, it was just past eight, and he wondered if he should wake his sleeping partner; curiosity and concern getting the better of him.

"Peter…" He whispered the name, not wanting to startle the sleeping man, but felt regret as he watched the older man's body jerk.

"Neal?" Peter opened his eyes, and squinted back towards Neal. "Damn. Why's it so dark in here? What time is it?"

"Just after eight. Peter…what's going on? Is Elizabeth…" He stopped when he said the name, not sure if he should ask the question.

"Taken." Neal shut his eyes and clamped his jaw when he heard Peter speak, the one word holding so much emotion it ripped at his heart.

"Peter…" He wasn't sure what to say. He opened his eyes when Peter reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, finally able to see the strain and fatigue in his mentor's eyes. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but shut it immediately when he decided against it.

"Hughes put me on administrative leave." He answered Neal's unspoken inquiry, his voice laced with pain and frustration. Peter held up a hand to stop Neal's protest. "Diana's bringing everything over here. She should be here soon."

"Mozzie?"

"He was taking El a bag of your things for her to bring back here." Peter paused pointing to a duffle bag sitting on the couch and swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. "He saw them grab her. Managed to get the plate, but the car was reported stolen yesterday, and had already been dumped. Not sure if ERT has found anything, it looked as though it had been wiped clean."

"Peter…I…I am…so…sorry." Neal stumbled through it, an overwhelming guilt taking hold of him.

"Neal…this isn't your fault. None of it." Peter studied the troubled blue eyes that were staring back at him. He drew in a breath and looked away, his own worry and concern welling up inside. He knew the only reason he was still holding it together was the medication Dr. Matthews had put him on earlier. He longed to be back in the office, to be working towards finding Elizabeth; he needed something to focus his mind on.

Neal eased himself back against the stack of pillows, the effort of sitting up finally getting to be too much. He knew the pain that his partner was going through, his search for Kate had ended with her being killed. He knew the hopelessness of not being able to do anything, even though every part of your being was screaming for you to do _something_. There was a knock on the door, and Neal was glad to see Diana enter, relieving the awkward silence. She carried a large brown and white file box label BURKE, ELIZABETH, setting it on the table behind Peter, turning the label towards the wall.

"Hey boss. How you holding up?" Diana walked over and stood next to the bed, looking down at Peter.

"Fine. ERT find anything?" Peter didn't look up; he kept his eyes on the ground between his feet.

"They found some hair and fibers. We're waiting on the DNA typing to come back."

"That could take days. We need something else."

"I know. We'll find her, boss." Diana watched Peter study the floor; she had to get back to the office, but she was worried about him. "You going to be alright?"

"Yeah…go get back to the team." He finally lifted his eyes to look at the younger agent standing next to him. "Thanks Diana."

"Sure." She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. "Get some rest."

Peter waited for Diana to exit the room, and then glanced over at Neal; the young man had a questioning look on his face.

"She wasn't here." Peter pointed a cautionary finger at Neal.

"My lips are sealed." Neal motioned to the box. "What do we have?"

"Hughes finally came through with the backgrounds and financials on all the SWAT team members." Peter pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, as he handed Neal the top file out of the box. "You up for some real food?"

"I'm starved." Neal murmured, already engrossed in the file in front of him.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Thanks to the faithful few who leave feedback, they keep me going and let me know you're still enjoying this.**

I don't own White Collar or the characters...blah blah blah ;-)

Chapter Eight

_The warm Caribbean sun shone down on her as she walked down the beach, the sand was soft beneath her feet, and the water lapped lazily at the shore line to her right. She smiled as she could see her husband walking towards her, and she waved. This was a long overdue vacation for the both of them. It seemed strange that the man, who had kept them from being able to come for so many years, was the same man who had now made it possible. She would have to thank Neal when they return to New York. She stopped, and bent down to pick up a sea shell; as she stood she noticed Peter had a panicked look on his face. He was calling for her, but as she hurried towards him, she wasn't getting any closer. She started to run, but Peter just seemed to get farther away. _

_The beach disappeared, and she found herself standing in her dining room at home, staring at a puddle of blood on the floor. She kneeled beside it, scrubbing with the rag she found in her hand. Warm tears silently streamed down her face. She felt a presence, and looked up to see Neal standing in front of her, his white t-shirt stained red with blood._

"_This is your fault, Neal. He trusted you, and this is how you repay him? You let him die."_

"_No…No…he can't be dead. I'm dead." She watched in confusion as Neal looked down at his stained shirt, and slowly backed away, disappearing into the bookcase behind him. She heard another voice behind her and she turned, seeing only a black void._

"_They'll never find you." She didn't recognize the sinister voice. "And when I'm done with you, I'm going to kill them both."_

_She could feel her body tremble violently, tears flooded uncontrollably from her eyes. _

"_What do you want from me?" She screamed into the blackness._

"_You're going to get me what I want." The menacing voice laughed. "You're going to bring them right to me."_

"_No…" She whispered to herself, her body still shaking as she let herself succumb to the darkness._

_._

"Reese, please. Don't do this." Peter was trying to keep his tone from sounding like a whine, but he had never felt so helpless, so desperate, before in his life.

"I'm sorry, Peter. You're too involved in this." Hughes got up from his chair, walking around to the front of this desk, leaning one hip on the corner in front of Peter. "We all care for Elizabeth; this office is working around the clock."

"I need to be here." He knew it wasn't worth arguing the point, but he had had to give it one more shot.

"You need to be at home. The best thing you can do right now is let the team do their job." The older man watched Peter warily. He hated putting Peter on the bench, so to speak, but the orders had come down from above; there wasn't anything he could do about it. "We're going to find her, Peter."

Peter stood silently and left the office. The conference room next door buzzed with activity, agents running in and out. Every fiber of his body wanted to be in there. He walked past, ducking into his own office for a moment, pulling out the file he had compiled three months prior when all this had started. He paused, gently tracing a finger across the photo of Elizabeth that sat on his desk. Seeing her face made his stomach clench into a knot, and he felt lightheaded for a brief moment. He tucked the picture frame under his arm along with the file folder, and headed out of his office.

"Boss?" Peter turned to see Diana standing behind him. "Hughes turn you down, again?"

"Yeah." He couldn't hide his disappointment, he was too emotionally drained. "I just thought I'd stop by. I'm going to pick up some dinner, and then I'll be at the hospital."

"I'll call as soon as I know anything." Her expression was a mix of concern and pity. Peter just nodded, and turned, slowly walking towards the elevators.

.

Peter listlessly walked down the bright corridor towards the ICU, carrying the brown paper bag containing his dinner, the file folder and the picture frame still stuck up under his arm. His body felt numb as he watched the sliding glass doors slowly open in admittance. He waved, without thinking, at the nurses sitting behind the desk as he walked by, their soft acknowledgement barely registering in his mind. The lights were still on in Neal's room as he entered, illuminating his partner sitting propped up, eyes closed, with a stack of files in his lap. Peter quietly set the bag on the table, stripping off his overcoat, and draping it across the back of one of the chairs.

"p…tr…?" The voice was hardly a whisper, and the younger man's eyelids fluttered, but did not open.

Peter took his seat in the recliner chair next to the bed, not wanting to open the bag of food and risk waking his partner.

"brng…food?" Neal's head gently flopped in Peter's direction, one eye opening drowsily.

"Got you some chicken broth." Peter reached behind him, grabbed the bag and set it on the floor between his feet. Under normal circumstances he would have laughed at the scowl that crossed Neal's face as he crinkled his nose; but all he could muster in return was a heavy sigh.

"Was hoping for a steak." Neal sighed as he opened both eyes all the way, and tapped the top file with one finger. "Might have something here."

"What'd you find?" Peter poured some of the broth into a Styrofoam cup, and handed it to Neal, craning his neck over to try and see the file he was pointing at.

"Agent Trent Severson. You know him?" Neal folded open the file, and handed it to Peter.

"Yeah…well, sort of." Peter thoughtfully chewed on an egg roll as he glanced over the file. "He was on the team that was supposed to be on guard at your apartment the night that Agent Murphy took you."

Peter noticed a sudden change in Neal's demeanor, his eyes growing fierce and dark, and his body stiffening ever so slightly. The old emotional wall that normally stood between them, that hadn't been present the last few months, seemed to be creeping back. Peter kept one eye on him, as he scanned the file; he hoped it was just a side effect of the pain medication, things had been so much better between them lately.

"Neal, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Neal…"

"I said I'm fine." He tried to hide the grimace as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Neal, please don't do this. Not now." Peter needed him now, not just because he was brilliant, but he needed him as his friend.

"I said I'm fine. You should get Diana to talk to Severson. He's Agent Henry's step-son-in-law."

"Shit." Peter looked down at the file. How had they all missed that? He flipped through the pages cursing to himself. "Neal…I gotta go…"

Neal nodded and watched Peter race from the room. He was glad he was gone, and he let out a deep breath, setting the cup of broth down he clutched his side as the pain shot through him, and he pressed the button for more pain meds. The last thing he wanted was to admit how much pain he was still in, but it was getting harder and harder to hide it from Peter. But yet, somehow it seemed like fair punishment, after all, he was the reason Elizabeth had been grabbed. Neal squeezed his eyes closed, willing away the tears he could feel forming. He had done so many things that had strained Peter's trust in him, but what would happen when Peter realized that this was his fault? If Elizabeth was hurt, would Peter ever trust him again? He was grateful when the drugs lulled him back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 9

I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah blah blah. Please be kind...re[view]...

Chapter Nine

Peter eased the Taurus into his usual spot in the parking garage, and only paused long enough to lock up, before racing to the elevators. He was sorry he hadn't taken the time to thank Neal, and made a mental note to make sure he did when he got back to the hospital. The shrill ring of his cell phone broke the quiet hum of the elevator, about half way up to his floor.

"Burke."

"Peter…where are you?" Hughes's stern tone made his mind race along with the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins.

"I'm in the building." He knew it wasn't the answer Hughes wanted to hear. "I'm on my way up."

"Come to my office immediately." The line went dead, and the silence was eerily menacing. Fear clawed at him, pretty sure that Hughes's gruff demeanor didn't stem from him being in the building.

Peter hurried through the lower part of the office, nodding to the junior agents as he hurried by. He climbed the stairs up to the offices, two at a time. Hughes waved him into the office, as Peter approached, dismissing the junior agents that he had been talking with. They gave Peter a questioning look as they squeezed past, and hurried away.

"Peter, close the door." Hughes waved a finger as if mentally closing it himself. He waited until Peter had done so, before speaking again. "You might want to sit."

Peter took the chair opposite his boss; he could feel his chest tightening at the uncertainty of what was going on. He was terrified it was something bad, and that it had to do with Elizabeth. The whole day he had been trying so hard to focus on the little pieces of the puzzle that he could, trying to keep his mind occupied. He knew if he stopped being an FBI agent for just a moment, he was liable to break down. Now as he sat here, waiting to hear whatever news Hughes had for him, he wasn't sure he could keep it together much longer.

"Peter the hospital just called. Neal is missing." Hughes watched the confusion cross Peter's face.

"What? I was just there…" Peter thought his heart was going to pound itself right out of his chest, and he gasp for breath. A strange sense of relief flooded through him, when he realized Hughes wasn't telling him that Elizabeth was dead. He was grateful when a hot rage replaced the fear inside him. He couldn't handle fear; he didn't know what to do with it, but anger could be useful, and he refused to sit on the sidelines any longer. "You have to put me back on the case."

Hughes reached down and pulled Peter's badge and firearm out of his desk drawer, sliding them in Peter's direction.

"Don't make me regret this. You don't go anywhere without another agent." He waited for Peter to nod in acknowledgement, before continuing. "The hospital is sending over the security tapes. Apparently someone posed as a doctor, and wheeled him right out of the ICU about twenty minutes after you left. Jones and Diana are in the conference room."

Peter didn't wait to be dismissed. He jumped out of the chair, and hurried towards where he knew his team was working.

.

_He looked down over the edge of the building at the long drop to the ground, some thirty stories below. He could feel a few snowflakes land on his face, as the cold December air chilled him to the bone. He knew he should go back inside, Peter would be looking for him, but he just wanted to be alone for a little while. He had just needed to get out of the FBI office for a few minutes, it was hard to center himself in there. He could feel everyone's disappointment in him, their eyes drilling into him like little lasers. _

"_I'm a little disappointed in Burke. He's a legend, but I think he's slipping a little, having so much faith in you." The words seemed to come down to him from the clouds, and he looked up at the black sky._

"_I didn't compromise anything." He yelled at the cloud covered darkness. "This isn't my fault."_

_As he turned away from the ledge, he found himself standing in Peter's dining room, looking down at his mentor, who was sitting on the floor bleeding from his shoulder. Peter looked up at him, disappointment on his face._

"_This IS your fault Neal. I never should have trusted you. Look at the mess you've gotten us into."_

"_No, please Peter." He spun around to run, finding himself face to face with Elizabeth._

"_Aren't you going to find me, Neal? You have to help Peter find me." He tried to reach for her, but he fell to the floor, doubled over in pain. Blood gushed from a wound in his stomach. He reached for her again, but her image dissolved into the darkness. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"_

A quite moaning brought Elizabeth back to consciousness. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the lack of light, but she noticed that her wrists had been untied. She felt around with her hands, jerking back a bit when she ran into flesh and hair. She gently pulled her aching body to her hands and knees, crawling over to where she could barely make out what appeared to be a man in a hospital gown. With a little more probing, she found a thin hospital blanket thrown down in a lump at his feet. She inched around to the front of the man, pulling the blanket up over him, gasping in horror when she saw his face.

"Oh my god…Neal?" She sat back against the wall, pulling his shivering body up into her lap, wrapping the blanket around him as best as she could. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, hoping to revive him. "Neal, sweetie, please wake up."

"I'm…sor…ry…" His eyes stayed shut as his body continued to tremble. Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around him, holding him as close as she could, trying to keep him warm in the cold night air.

"It's OK, Neal. It will be OK." She laid her head on his and closed her eyes, praying that Peter would find them soon.

.

Peter had moved to the quiet of his own office so he could think, and he sat mulling over the details that Diana had pulled up on Trent Severson. He had a nearly perfect service record, having trained both with the FBI's SWAT and the elite HRT. During his four years serving on the HRT, he had received the Shield of Bravery, and became a member of the sniper's "Quarter Inch Club". After getting married a little over a year ago, he had transferred back to SWAT. Peter stared down at the identification photo of the young man, wondering how such a promising career could be pushed aside and destroyed so easily. He glanced at his watch, it was almost eleven thirty. He was growing impatient waiting on the security officer from the hospital; every minute that went by was agonizing. A knock on the door drew his attention from the file. He looked up to see Diana escorting the hospital security guard, with Dr. Matthews lurking just behind.

"Diana, take officer…"

"Hanover, sir."

"Take Officer Hanover to the conference room and cue up the tape." He tried to hide his annoyance at the security guard as he waved the doctor in. He almost hadn't recognized him in his blue jeans, cream turtleneck sweater and black wool jacket. "I take it you weren't on duty tonight."

"No, I wasn't… the hospital called me." The doctor pulled the door shut behind him, and took a seat across from Peter. He drew in a long breath before continuing. "Peter, he wasn't in any shape to be moved."

"I know." Peter blew out a breath, clenching his hands to keep them from shaking. "Evan, they have Elizabeth as well."

Peter saw a look of distress cross the doctor's face. He wasn't sure why he had blurted it out, but hearing the words out loud made his stomach turn.

"God, Peter. I'm so sorry, I didn't know." The doctor watched torment twist Peter's face for a moment, waiting until his expression relaxed a bit. "I came by because I want to help. When you find them, I'd like to go with you…"

Peter held up a hand to stop the doctor from finishing his sentence. He didn't want to think of all the horrible things that could be happening to Neal; never mind what they could be doing to Elizabeth.

"Thank you. I will call you when we know something." Peter stood, and crossed to where the doctor was, waited for him to stand, and shook his hand. "Thank you."

Peter parted ways with the doctor, entering the conference room to find a black and white picture of Neal's hospital room on the large TV screen. He let his eyes roam around the room, making sure the whole team was assembled, his eyes lingering for a moment on the empty chair at the far end of the table, next to his. He could almost envision Neal sitting there, twirling the chair around in circles, or bouncing the ball made from Peter's rubber bands off the ceiling. Hughes came in the door behind him, startling him from his daydream, motioning for Peter to take a seat.

They all watched as two men approached the guard at Neal's door, one dressed in doctor's scrubs pushing a wheelchair, the other flashed a badge. Peter noticed Neal was sleeping as the two men entered, but awoke as they neared his bed. Neal's eyes flashed with recognition as the supposed agent held him down, and the man dressed as a doctor held something over his mouth and nose. Neal struggled for less than a minute, and then lay still while the two men disconnected all the wires from the monitors, and not so gently removed his IV. They picked him up and dropped him into the wheelchair, wrapping a blanket around his lower body, and pushed him out the door. As they left, Peter caught sight of one of the men's faces.

"Stop! Pause that." Peter leapt up out of his chair, rushing up to the screen for a better look. "Son-of-a-bitch. Severson."

"I'll get a search warrant." Hughes put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Get the team ready to go."

.

Peter watched the team pack up in disgust, as he slowly unfastened his own bullet proof vest. They had searched Severson's apartment, coming up with not much more than an earful from his terrified young wife. Diana had taken the brunt of it, once the woman had realized that Diana had been the agent that had killed her step-father. As uncomfortable as it was, he was proud of the way Diana handled herself, the situation was unavoidable. Hughes was still in there, trying to calm Mrs. Severson down, trying to see if she knew anything that would be helpful. Peter could hear that she was being less that cooperative.

"Boss…" Diana approached, carrying a small evidence bag, containing what appeared to be a brass shell casing. "Mitchell found this in a gear bag in the back shed."

"One single .308 casing. Why the hell would he keep it?" Peter slammed his car trunk, taking the bagged shell in his hand, and studied it. He knew they still couldn't confirm anything until they found the gun, and even then it would be hard to prove that it was the same bullet that shot Neal, but in his mind, it was proof that Severson was guilty. "We need to find Severson."

"I'm on it boss." Diana pulled out her cell phone and started calling in an APB on the agent's SUV.

.

Elizabeth found herself clinging to Neal's shaking body as she woke; she had no idea what time it was, but it was still dark in the room. She put a hand to his forehead, letting out a worried sigh when she found it warm and damp. She didn't have to be a doctor to know that a fever was a very bad sign.

"Hold on Neal. Peter's coming." She felt a warm tear creep down her check at the thought of her husband. Her own head was still spinning, and she was starting to notice a tightness in her chest.

"p..tr…" His voice came out in a low hoarse whisper. "s..rryy…din..int…me…nnn…to…"

"Hush Neal. Save your strength." He slowly turned his head up to look into her eyes. His blue eyes were dull and glassy.

"el?"

"Yes, Neal. I'm here." She gently brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"wh…res…p…tr…?"

"He's coming Neal." The young man dropped his head back down, curling himself delicately against her chest, comforted by her familiarity.


	11. Chapter 10

I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah blah blah. Please be kind...re[view]...

Chapter Ten

"_Neal!" His head shot up, but he didn't recognize where he was. The small room was dark and he couldn't see, but he could hear Peter's voice calling to him. "Neal, what have you done? I trusted you."_

"_I didn't do anything." He spun around to where he could here Peter's voice, finding him standing over Elizabeth, her body slumped up against the wall. He could feel his body shaking and he wanted to run, but his feet wouldn't move. _

"_She's dead, Neal. It's all your fault. You betrayed me." Peter pulled his gun from its holster, and aimed it in his direction._

"_I didn't. Peter, please…" _

.

Peter stood gazing out of the large glass terrace doors of Neal's apartment, watching through the darkness as the torrent of rain fell down on the bricks outside. Even though it was still early morning, he knew there would be no sunrise on a day like this; the weather seemed to match his mood. A chill ran up his back thinking that Elizabeth and Neal were somewhere out there. Jones had called about an hour ago to check in; reporting that Agent Severson still hadn't shown back up to his house and his wife had not made any phone calls. Small victories, he told himself. At least there was still hope that Severson didn't know they were on to him, and thus wouldn't have harmed Elizabeth or Neal. He knew they wouldn't be able to keep that advantage much longer.

"Suit." Peter jumped as voice beside him broke the silence.

"How'd you do that?" He looked questioningly from the little man, to the door across the room and back, waving his hand in dismissal at the little man who stood looking out the windows. "Nevermind."

"Still falls the rain, dark as the world of man, black as our loss…"

"Mozzie!" Peter interrupted him.

"Sorry. Are you familiar with the old Townsend complex?" The little man did not turn his gaze.

"Sure. It's the old defunct HRT training facility. It's been shut down for years." Peter felt a small surge of relief, but pushed it down, not willing to be hopeful. Mozzie just nodded his head.

"There may have been some unusual activity there the last few days."

"That's not enough to get a search warrant. I need more."

"The young man knows the rules, but the old man knows the exceptions." Mozzie finally turned, pointing a finger at Peter. "You better think of a way, suit."

He watched as Mozzie turned and left the apartment. Peter knew better than to try and understand the strange man. He paced around the room, letting his eyes dance over the tidy space. A thick navy blue book seemed out of place, laying sideways on one of the shelves; Peter crossed over, picking it up, he recognized the Warrant Law book he had loaned Neal during their first case together. As he turned the book over in his hands, he noticed a small note card stuck between the pages. He gingerly flipped the book open to Neal's place holder, nearly dropping the book as he read the heading: EXIGENT CIRCUMSTANCES.

"Thank you, Neal." He said it to himself with a smile, remembering that first case when they had been able to catch a forger because he had been able to follow Neal, their "fugitive" into the building, preventing the evidence from being destroyed. "For once I'm glad you're a felon."

.

Elizabeth listened to the rain pound on the metal roof above her, grateful that they were at least dry. She worried about Neal, his shaking had turned to full body tremors, he mumbled incoherently and he had started scratching at himself in his sleep. The room was still dark, and she still had no idea how long she had been here, but she guessed it was nearing a full day. She heard footsteps echoing in the distance, coming closer, and she shook the sleeping man desperately trying to wake him.

"neal…" She hoarsely whispered into his ear. "neal…please…wake up."

"wh…t?" He peered up at her through drooping eyelids.

"Someone's coming." She put a finger to her lips, motioning for him to be quiet.

She heard a door open in the darkness, and looked up to find the silhouette of a man standing in a doorway about ten feet away from them. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out his face, but had no luck.

"I just don't see why you and your husband have such an affinity for that convict." The shadow of a man closed the door, turning on the single bare bulb that from the ceiling. The light nearly blinded her, and she clutched at Neal tighter as the man's malicious glare fell on them. He was tall and slender, maybe in his mid thirties she guessed, dressed in black cargo pants and a black jacket. She had seen the outfit before, when meeting some of the other agents at various FBI functions.

"I don't know…why do you hold such a hatred for him?" Elizabeth countered, her voice cracking as it came out.

"He got my father in law killed." The man rushed angrily over to stand above her. "Your husband's one of us, he shouldn't be protecting him. You're all going to pay for your sins."

"Neal never hurt anybody." She wanted to protect Neal, but she was helpless, her own head starting to feel like it was spinning. "Your father in law was a traitor."

Elizabeth regretted the words as soon as they came out, her face blew up like it had been hit with a thousand hot needles as the young man standing above her reached out and slapped her. He grabbed her and roughly pulled her to her feet, slamming her into the wall, his eyes burning red with fury.

"He was a hero. Something Caffrey will never be." He wrapped a hand around her throat, watching as she gasped for breath. She desperately clawed at his hand and face, trying to get him to loosen his hold. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you right now…we can't start the party without Peter."

Neal watch in horror as the man he recognized Agent Severson chocked Elizabeth; he tried to call out, but his voice was nothing but a whisper. He used every ounce of strength he had left to push his aching body up, using the wall for support. He didn't see himself making it out of here, in the condition he was in. If he could just get to Severson, maybe Elizabeth could get away; he could die in peace if he knew she was safe.

Elizabeth could feel herself starting to black out, her breaths coming in very short bursts. She managed to bring her knee up, banging it into the agent's groin. He buckled just a little, but the grip on her throat only tightened. Suddenly there was a flash of movement, and she felt the grip on her neck disappear as the man fell to the ground.

"Neal!" She shouted when she realized that Neal had rammed himself into the man, pulling Severson down with him. She rushed over, grabbing the gun out of the startled man's holster. She raised it up, supporting it with both hands as Peter had taught her, trying to keep her focus. "Leave him alone."

"You bitch." The man pulled himself loose from the now unconscious Neal, and leapt towards her. Without thinking, she felt her finger pull on the trigger, and the man stumbled backwards, falling to the floor next to Neal, a pool of blood oozing out across his chest. Elizabeth crossed over to Neal, his body trembling violently.

"Neal…Neal…wake up." She lifted him up, pulling him against her body. She could feel her body trying to give in, and she struggled to stay conscious. "I can't carry you, you have to wake up."


	12. Chapter 11

I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah blah blah. Please be kind...re[view]...

Chapter Eleven

The morning light was gray and miserable, as the rain continued to pound the city. The two story abandoned HRT training facility stood looming ominously before them. Peter stood at the edge of the group with Diana and Dr. Matthews, watching as Hughes coordinated with HRT. Peter was still uneasy with bringing them in, but at least most of them knew this building backwards and forwards. They were just finishing setting up thermal sensors, hoping to get a location on Elizabeth and Neal, before going into the building. Peter was told that this was an old office building, and the number of rooms would make a physical search long and difficult. He waited anxiously as they brought the system online, and started scanning the building.

"We've got a location." Special Agent Huett, the team leader, called over his shoulder to Peter.

Peter crossed over to where Agent Huett stood with the monitor, the rest of the team closing in behind him. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he looked at the unmoving shades of red, orange and blue. He knew that a living human form would not be shaded in blue, but he had no way of knowing who it was. He clenched his jaw as a slight wave of nausea swept over him.

"Only the two figures?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"That's all I see…wait…" Agent Huett held up his hand, without looking at Peter. They watched as the red and orange figure shifted slightly, what appeared to be a second head appearing. "That's two people."

"That must be Neal and Elizabeth." Diana commented; her tone of voice was hopeful.

"Then who's that?" Peter pointed to the cold figure, lying motionless what looked like just a few feet away.

"Doesn't matter. We're still on full alert going in." Huett motioned for his team to get ready.

Peter crossed back to where Dr. Matthews stood. "You stay here at the command post until we're secure in there."

"You're going with them?" Peter just nodded back at the bewildered doctor.

"You'll be fine." Peter gave a pat on the shoulder, before jogging over to join the entry team.

.

"Neal?" Elizabeth looked down at the young man worriedly. His breath was coming in short quick gasps, his fever was getting worse, and was looking paler by the minute. There was no doubt what he had done had saved their lives, but she worried if Peter didn't find them soon, that he had traded his for hers. She left him for a brief moment, retrieving the thin hospital blanket from across the room. She returned, pulling Neal back into her lap, and wrapped them both tightly with the blanket, keeping a wary eye on the man laying cold just a few feet away. She kept one hand on the .45 that lay on the ground next to her, its presence was the only comfort she had.

.

Peter quietly followed the HRT team down the long dark corridor, his mind still returning to the image of the figure laying cold and still on the thermal monitor. There was no way to know who that was, and he couldn't help but fear the worse. Agent Huett held up a fist and everybody stopped where they were. With a few more hand signals, Peter watched as the team spread out and moved into their positions. It seemed like an eternity before the team was still again, letting everything go quiet once more. With a signal from Huett the door was breached with a battering ram, and Huett disappeared into the room, using the flashlight on his weapon to lead the way.

"GUN DOWN! PUT THE GUN DOWN!" Peter heard the loud calls from the team leader, and he saw one of the HRT members come racing down the hallway towards him.

"Sir. Huett needs you in there. It's your wife, sir." Peter couldn't help but chuckle to himself a little, which only seemed to make the young agent uneasy.

He holstered his weapon as he carefully made his way down the hallway, avoiding all the HRT agents still on the ready in their positions. He eased his way through the door, both hands forward and palms out, slowly moving his way around Huett, he found himself face to face with Elizabeth and a .45.

"Peter? Oh my god." Elizabeth's voice was hoarse and shaky as she lowered the gun, letting herself slump forward into Peter's arms, she felt Huett take the gun from her hand.

"We need two ambulances, and bring the doctor in." Peter called out over his shoulder, as he eased himself and Elizabeth down to the ground next to Neal, holding her tightly in his arms. Neal was white as a ghost and seemed oblivious to the commotion going on around him. Peter sat there, listening to Elizabeth's sobs, and Neal's labored breathing, and rested his head on hers, as she burrowed herself into his chest. "It's OK now. You're safe."

Peter closed his eyes, drawing in a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. Elizabeth and Neal were safe, and Severson was dead. The agent in him was impatient to know what had happened, but he knew this wasn't the time to pry for answers. Instead he stroked his wife's hair, grateful when the sobs calmed down into whimpers. He heard footsteps approaching in the corridor outside, and looked up in time to see Dr. Matthews entering the room, carrying a blue duffle bag. The doctor let his eyes run over the scene, kneeling down next to Neal, before turning to Peter.

"Yeah, I think she's fine. Going to bring her in and get her checked any way." Peter turned his head and finally looked at Neal. "He's not doing well is he?"

The doctor silently shook his head, and went to work, only briefly turning to look back at Peter.

"Take her out to the EMTs, and send the others in here."

Peter felt torn, he wanted to stay with Neal, but his concern for his wife had him standing, and pulling her to her feet.

"No, Peter. I want to stay." Elizabeth pleaded; her voice was quiet and hoarse.

"El, let Dr. Matthews work." Peter wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"No. Peter…" She turned to look at him, her red rimmed eyes, barely holding back the tears. "We're not leaving him."

"Elizabeth." Dr. Matthews stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. His tone was firm but gentle. "There isn't enough room in here for you and the EMTs. You can wait for us at the ambulances."

Elizabeth quietly nodded and let Peter escort her from the room. Her body was starting to shake from the cold and the stress, and Peter pulled her close as they walked, his own hands trembling from the mix of emotions running through him. As they emerged from the building, he could see that two ambulances, a coroner's van, and a handful of police cruisers had parked alongside where the HRT had made their command post. Diana and Jones stood off to one side, talking with Hughes. Peter just nodded to them, his own mind solely focused on his wife beside him.

Peter tried to be calm and patient as the EMTs checked Elizabeth over, giving her some oxygen to help with the tightness in her chest. She kept insisting that she was alright, but he could see the start of some bruising on her neck, and he couldn't help but want to strap her down to the gurney just to be on the safe side. She finally agreed to ride to the hospital in the ambulance to be checked out fully, but refused to leave until Neal was ready to travel. He waved for Diana to come over, so he could get an update.

"Boss." Diana glanced behind him to Elizabeth, who sat on the back bumper of the ambulance. "Is Elizabeth alright?"

"Yeah, she's OK. What's the update on Neal?"

"They just called for a MedEvac." She tried to hand Peter the radio, but he didn't take it.

"No, I don't want Elizabeth hearing all that, just keep me posted?" He felt his stomach clench into a knot, it was not good news if they were calling for a helicopter.

"Will do, boss." He watched Diana turn and walk away, and took a deep breath to steady himself before returning to where Elizabeth sat.


	13. Chapter 12

I don't own White Collar, or any of the characters…blah blah blah… ;-) Please be kind…re[view].

Chapter Twelve

Peter stood alone in the ER waiting room, starring out the windows at the city, watching as the rain finally eased up, giving way to the rising sun which was turning the clouds a fiery red. He knew that the helicopter had beaten them back to the hospital, but there was still no word as to Neal's condition. He found some comfort in the fact that Dr. Matthews had traveled with Neal and, Peter assumed, was still with him. Elizabeth had been quiet during the ambulance ride, unable, or unwilling to talk about the day's events yet. The agent in him was still yearning to know what had happened in that room. Peter tried to keep his mind focused on the case, not willing to let the fear and worry that lingered deep inside, up to the surface.

"Agent Burke?" A petite blonde nurse, Peter recognized as Meredith, called from the doorway behind him. She crossed over, and stood beside him. She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Dr. Matthews wanted me to let you know that Mr. Caffrey went straight into surgery when they arrived, and he will be down to see you as soon as they're done. Let me take you back to see your wife."

Peter silently followed the nurse down a short, but all too familiar hallway, through a couple of sliding glass doors, and into an area of the ER with multiple beds along the wall, each separated with a blue curtain. There were a few doctors and nurses bustling about, but it seemed fairly quiet except for a few beeping monitors. Peter hadn't imagined it to seem so calm. His breath hitched when he saw Elizabeth sitting in one of the beds, an IV hooked up to her right arm. He had to fight down a feeling of panic, and reassured himself that she was indeed all right. She was still dressed in her street clothes, a blanket wrapped around her lower body.

"Sweetie, I'm fine." Elizabeth, seeing him frozen in place, held out a hand to motion him over. "Really, it's OK."

Peter crossed over, and took her hand in his; he reached over and ran a hand gently down her face before kissing her delicately. Her blue eyes looked clear as she smiled back at him, but seeing her here finally made the terror of the past day sink in. He could feel tears starting to well up in his own eyes, and he clamped them shut for a moment, trying to control his breathing, willing himself to keep it together.

"Peter…"

"I almost lost you." His voice was quiet and shaky; he pulled a nearby stool over and sat, not letting go of her hand.

"But you didn't. I'm here, and I'm alright." She patted the back of his hand reassuringly. "Neal made sure of that… How is he?"

"Don't know yet." He paused, wondering if she was ready to talk. "Meredith said he was back in surgery. Elizabeth…what happened in there?"

"The man who took us…" She paused.

"Severson." Elizabeth nodded, processing the name.

"He was…choking me…and Neal…" Elizabeth felt the tears starting to flow again at the memory. "I don't know how he did it, he was barely conscious but somehow he…somehow he knocked…Severson…to the floor."

"And the gun?"

"While Severson…was trying to pull loose from Neal…I ran forward and…I…I grabbed it." She could feel her body tremble as she recounted what had happened. "He was coming after me…and…I…"

"It's OK." Peter stood, leaned over and wrapped both arms around her.

"Peter…Neal's going to be alright, isn't he?" She whimpered into Peter's chest. Peter stayed quiet for a moment; he wasn't sure what to make of what she had just told him. "He's…he's a fighter El."

Peter sat back down on the stool, stroking Elizabeth's hair gently as he watched her finally stop crying and doze off to sleep. He laid his head down on the bed next to her, and was about to shut his own eyes, when he heard a nurse approach.

"Agent Burke? There's an Agent Barrigan here to see you."

Peter nodded, and with one last look at Elizabeth, followed the nurse back out of the ER to the waiting room.

"Boss…How are they?"

"Elizabeth's fine, they're just giving her some fluids. Neal's in surgery, but I'm not sure why, haven't heard anything." He sat down in one of the white plastic chairs, motioning for Diana to do the same. "What's up?"

"We recovered a FR-SPN A3G from Severson's vehicle. I've already had it sent down to ballistics, along with the .45 recovered from Elizabeth." Diana paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Has Elizabeth told you anything?"

"A little." Peter nodded and let out a long breath. He could feel the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he swallowed hard, not wanting to take his frustrations out on Diana. "Elizabeth shot Severson. It was self defense."

"Nobody is doubting that." Diana added quickly, as she sensed Peter's defensiveness. She paused, not feeling completely comfortable with the message she had to deliver. "Hughes wanted me to tell you…that you need to come in and file a report ASAP. Boss, they're putting you back on A.L.."

"It's fine, Diana." He stood and removed his firearm and badge, slowly handing them over to her. He had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. "Tell Hughes, as soon as I know about Neal, I'll be in."

He turned and quietly walked out the doors, and headed back to the ER. He had no intention of going anywhere just yet.

.

Peter could feel Elizabeth running her fingers through his hair, as he gradually woke from his dreamless sleep. She was looking down at him with her blue eyes, a loving smile on her face. He felt at ease for that moment, until his brain registered they were still in the ER, and the day's stress came rushing back to him. He checked his watch, it read 9:30am.

"Dr. Matthews is here." She told him gently. Peter turned to find the doctor sitting on a stool at the end of the bed; his street clothes had been replaced with green surgical scrubs, and a cloth mask still hung around his neck. The young surgeon's eyes were sullen; Peter knew he must be exhausted, but he was grateful, once again, for the doctor's assistance.

"How's Neal?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"He's critical. We're dealing with a few different problems. He was in what we call Pulseless V-Tach, when I got to him in that room. It's considered a form of cardiac arrest. We were able to get a normal rhythm before putting him on the chopper, but at this point we're not sure exactly what was the cause. Some of his internal stitches ripped open, causing him to bleed internally and leak intestinal fluid, which caused his body to go into septic shock. As a result his blood pressure dropped again. Additionally, I believe that he and Elizabeth must have been given an anesthetic called Chloroform. It can be toxic, and unfortunately, seems to be interacting with the pain medication he was on, causing a decrease in his kidney functions." Dr. Matthews paused and took a few long breaths before continuing.

"Either the sepsis or the Chloroform could have cause the V-Tach, and even though we were able to get a normal rhythm back, he will have to be monitored very closely. He is back on a ventilator for now, and is on IV antibiotics. We pushed a few bags of plasma during the surgery, so we're holding off on putting him on dialysis. But, if he doesn't stabilize in the next few hours, we may need to reconsider. We can't give him any pain medication, until the chloroform is out of his system, so he's been put into a drug induced coma".

"Can we see him?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly. The doctor shook is head in response.

"Not right now. Once he's stable, he'll be transferred to a private room in the ICU, then you can see him. I can get you two a private waiting room again if you'd like."

"That would be great." Peter gave Elizabeth's hand a light squeeze. "Is she ready to go?"

"Yeah, I talked with the Attending before I came over, she's ready to be discharged. Let me get that moving along for you." The doctor quickly stood and left. Peter looked back at Elizabeth; her eyes were brimming with tears.

"He'll pull through, El. He always does." Peter's voice came out barely above a whisper. The thought of Neal not making it made him ill; looking at Elizabeth he knew he owed Neal a debt he could never repay.

.

_"He was standing in the doorway of a small dimly lit room, he could see Neal curled up motionless on the floor in the corner. A man stood with his back towards him, his hands around Elizabeth's neck. She was trying to speak, but he couldn't hear what she was saying._

"_Stop! Severson, please...she's not involved in this." He tried to enter the room, to go to her, but his feet wouldn't move. No matter how loud he screamed, the man didn't seem to take notice. He reached for his firearm, finding that it wasn't there._

"_You're on leave." Severson finally turned to look at him. A sinister smile flashed across his face, as he laughed. "You can't do anything. I'm going to kill her, and your little con, and then I'm coming for you."_

_He watched in horror as Elizabeth's body started jerking uncontrollably, her eyes wild with fear. He screamed, but nobody heard him. He struggled to free himself from whatever invisible force was holding him in place, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't enter the room._

"Peter?" The voice was a whisper but it jerked him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes to find Dr. Matthews standing above him.

"Where's Elizabeth?" Peter looked around the room in confusion, a slight feeling of panic still lingering in his mind.

"I passed her in the hallway, she was headed down to the coffee shop." The doctor smiled and sat down in the chair next to Peter. "She'll be back soon. You OK?"

"Yeah…yeah…I'm fine." Peter pushed himself upright in the chair, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself. "What time is it?"

"It's just after three." Peter let his eyes settle on the doctor, noticing that he had changed back into jeans, and a collared shirt.

"You're not working today…" A slight pang of guilt ran through Peter as he realized it must be the doctor's day off.

"Not technically." The doctor gave an easy smile, and shrugged his shoulders. "No worries."

"How's Neal?"

"His heart rate is steady, his blood pressure is up and holding, and his O2 Sats are normalizing, which tells us he's responding to the antibiotics. His Creatinine level is down, indicating that his kidneys are doing better. He's been started back on the Morphine, and is being weaned off the Propofol. I would guess he should start waking up in the next hour or so. They were removing the ventilator when I left, and he should be into his room by now."

"Why are you taking him off the ventilator so soon?" Peter's voice held his apprehension.

"I don't want him waking up with it and panicking again. This is good Peter. He's doing good."

Peter felt some of the tension melt away, and looked up as he heard the door open. He smiled when he saw Elizabeth enter, carrying three cups of coffee. She crossed over, handing a cup to each of the men.

"If you two are ready, I'll take you up, I want to check on him once more before I head out."

Peter eased himself out of the chair, and followed the doctor out of the room, keeping one arm tightly wrapped around Elizabeth.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! I know this chapter is a little slow, so I hope everyone is still entertained, sadly, I think we may be nearing the end. I will just have to think up new and creative ways to torture our favorite heros ;-)**

**Hollowgirl15- I'm glad you enjoy all the medical stuff, I really do. It should be fairly accurate/realistic, I grew up in a house with a nurse**

** and first responders, and have had some first responder training myself.**

Don't own White Collar or the characters...blah blah blah... please be kind... re[view]...

Chapter Thirteen

_Pete__r dropped him to the floor of the vaguely familiar conference room; his arms and legs felt limp as Peter pulled him up to a sitting position against the wall._

_"You're the only one…"_

_"The only one what, Neal?"_

_"The only one I trust…"_

_Peter's face dissolved into a deep blackness, and he felt isolated and cold. As he craned his head around looking for Peter, he suddenly found himself standing in the office._

_"Peter, when are you going to trust me?" He hadn't meant for it to sound so pleading, as he held Peter's stare from across the desk._

"_I don't know, Neal… can I trust you?" Peter closed the file and dropped it angrily onto the desk in front of him._

"_Peter…" He was having trouble concealing the hurt that he felt. How many times had they been through this? _

"_No, Neal. Don't. I don't want to hear it." Peter stood and turned his back to him, gazing out the windows at the back of the office. "You pull a stunt like that again, and so help me, I'll put you back in."_

_He let his head roll back against the chair and closed his eyes, trying to settle his nerves. He felt his body start to shake, and he opened his eyes, finding himself surrounded by darkness again._

"_This is all you're fault, Neal. Is this how you repay my trust?" Peter's voice came to him from off in the distance. "You endangered Elizabeth. She almost died because of you."_

"_No…" He turned in a circle, looking for Peter, but finding nothing but darkness. "I didn't. I wouldn't."_

"_You let me down, Neal…" Peter's voice echoed in his head._

_._

Peter sat silently watching over his partner, while Elizabeth slept curled up on the couch across the room. He was barely fighting off his own exhaustion, but he was determined to be there when Neal woke. Every so often he would notice Neal's eyelids flutter, and his head twitch. Peter knew they were nearing the end of the hour Dr. Matthews had thought it would take Neal to wake. He thought he saw a bit of blue peak out from under one eyelid, and he leaned over and gently placed his hand on Neal's.

"Neal?" Peter whispered, jumping back a little when one of the monitors started letting out a shrill siren.

"Peter…what did you do?" Elizabeth looked over at him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Nothing." He looked at Elizabeth in confusion. A nurse in pink scrubs burst into the room, pushing him out of the way, silencing the alarm.

"His heart rate spiked. If you're going to agitate him, you're going to have to leave." The thin brunette hissed at Peter as she checked the rest of the monitors.

"I didn't…I just said his name…" Peter's voice held his confusion.

"It's your voice." The nurse held up a finger to her lips to signal him to be quiet, as she pointed the other hand at the heart monitor, it's little red warning light blinked wildly.

Elizabeth crept over to the bed opposite Peter, and tenderly ran a hand through Neal's hair.

"It's alright, Neal. You're alright…you're safe." She watched as the blinking red light slowed, and then turned off.

"You can stay." The nurse said approvingly, before turning and pointing to Peter. "You…stay quiet."

Peter watched dumfounded as the nurse left the room, easing himself back down in his chair next to the bed. He looked over at Elizabeth, holding his hands up, silently asking her what he'd done wrong.

"I don't know…" Elizabeth whispered, as she sat down, wrapping Neal's hand in hers.

Peter sat quietly and watched as Elizabeth stroked Neal's hair, keeping her other hand firmly wrapped around Neal's; the younger man obviously fighting some sort of internal battle as he struggled for consciousness. It pained him to see his partner in such a state, knowing that Neal was the reason Elizabeth had survived the ordeal unharmed. It had been hard to stuff down the hurt he had felt when the nurse had told him he was the reason for Neal's current distress. Admittedly, things between himself and Neal hadn't always been easy, but he had truly thought they had made progress over the last few months. A flash of blue caught his attention, and he had to force himself to stay still in his chair, as Neal's eyes finally started to ease open.

"Neal…sweetie?" Elizabeth talked quietly, keeping her tone calm and reassuring. "Can you hear me?"

Neal shifted his head slowly so that he was facing Elizabeth.

"u…o…k…" His voice was shaky and barely audible.

"I'm fine." She smiled down at him, still running her fingers lightly through his hair. "Peter's here."

Neal's face tightened as he recoiled into the pillows a little, before turning his wide eyes to look in Peter's direction. Peter saw panic and fear flash across the blue eyes that warily stared at him.

"p…tr…" Peter heard the beep of the heart monitor getting faster. "s…rrry…"

"Sorry for what?" Peter tried to keep his voice gentle.

"liz…bth…" Neal's wild eyes danced across Peter's face for a moment, before turning back to face Elizabeth.

"It's OK, Neal." Elizabeth gave his hand a squeeze, before looking across at Peter. "He thinks you're angry with him…"

"Neal…Neal, please look at me." Peter reached out and touched Neal's arm, the monitor's beeping picking up a little more speed, before Neal finally turned his head in Peter's direction. "Neal, I'm not angry."

"my…f…lt…"

"No Neal. This isn't your fault." Peter's heart sank as he saw the anguish in his partner's eyes. He let out a deep breath before continuing. "Neal…You protected Elizabeth. You kept her safe."

Peter watched as Neal's eyes softened, and the beeping on the monitor started to slow. Elizabeth quietly stood, and mouthed she was going to find a doctor, and disappeared, leaving them alone. Peter saw Neal's eyes follow her out of the room.

"Neal…what you did…" Peter felt like all the air had been knocked out of him for a moment. Neal slowly reached over and put a hand on Peter's arm, his blue eyes were starting to look dull and pained.

"u…don…t…d…serv…loo…se…h…er…cus…me…"

"Neal…you didn't cause this." Peter let out a wary sigh. "Just try and rest."

"Good advice." Peter recognized Dr. Groel as he approached the bed, quickly checking the monitors before turning to Neal. "Mr. Caffrey, are you in any pain?"

Neal shook his head, no, but grimaced as the doctor raised the back of the bed.

"uh…huh…Dr. Matthews warned me about you." The doctor smiled as he listened to Neal's lungs, and checked his pupils. He eased around to the other side of the bed, adjusting the rate of the pain medication. "Everything looks good. I've gone ahead and had Dr. Matthews paged like he requested. I'm sure he'll be by in a little while to see you."

Peter watched as Dr. Groel turned and left, keeping one eye on Neal.

"See…you've been labeled as a trouble maker." Neal tried to shrug, but stopped when it made a wave of pain and nausea roll through him. The effect was not lost on Peter, but he decided not to mention it.

.

Peter could sense that it was late, as his mind slowly eased its way back to consciousness, slowly brought along by the sound of Elizabeth's voice chatting along quietly. He opened his eyes to find himself on the couch, vaguely remembering Elizabeth coming back and getting him to move. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, and checked his watch; it was just before nine. The lack of sleep from the night before had been taking its toll, and he was thankful he had been able to sleep without the nightmares. As he let his gaze wonder over to Neal's bed, he found Elizabeth sitting in a chair with her back to him, and Dr. Matthews sitting on the end of the bed. He stretched his body as he stood, easing the kinks out, before crossing the small space.

"How's he doing?" Peter addressed Dr. Matthews, tilting his head in Neal's direction.

"He looks good…seems to be responding nicely to the treatment." The doctor gave Neal's leg a pat before standing and looking at Peter. "I'm going to get out of your hair. I'm not on again until tomorrow evening, but if you need anything, feel free to call me."

"I will." Peter shook his hand and watched him leave the room before turning back to Neal and Elizabeth. He saw Neal reach out and rest a hand on Elizabeth's arm.

"el…giv…us…a…min…ute…"

"Sure…Neal..." Her eyes held her confusion as she looked between the two men, standing and giving Peter a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll just wonder down to the coffee shop."

Peter sat down in the chair where Elizabeth had been sitting, waiting for her to leave the room.

"Pe…tr" Neal tried to ease himself up in the bed, but crumpled back down in disgust as the pain got to be too much. "wha…t…ha…pend?"

"When? In that room? You don't remember?" Neal shook his head in response. "You didn't ask Elizabeth?"

"didn…wan…t…up…set…her" Peter felt a little uneasy seeing the raw emotion in Neal's blue eyes, it was something he so naturally concealed.

"She told me you jumped Severson, while he was trying to strangle her." Peter could feel his own emotions start to boil up inside of him. He clenched his hands when they started to tremble.

"is…ok…" He reached out a hand and let it flop down on Peter's knee. "sev..son…"

"Elizabeth shot him." Neal furrowed his brow, silently asking the question. "Killed him."

"I'm…s..rry…"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Neal. You rest. We'll talk when you're feeling better." Neal nodded and closed his eyes.

"don…sen…d…me…bac"

"You're not going anywhere, kiddo." Peter reached over and gently tussled his hair; watching as Neal eased off to sleep, wondering what he was so worried about.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: So... I know the word count on this chapter is a little on the low side, but, damn...Neal just has to get feeling better so he can actually talk ;-)**

Don't own White Collar or the character ... except Dr. Matthews...he's mine... ;-) Please be kind...re[view]...

Chapter Fourteen

Peter sent his report to the printer and eased back in his chair, swiveling around so that he could gaze out the back windows. The sun was barely lingering around the tall buildings, but people still bustled about on the streets twenty floors down. It was the first day he had spent outside of the hospital, without a crisis, in almost a week. It had been therapeutic to be in more of a normal routine, and he could almost imagine that it was just like any other day until he looked out to where the junior agents desks were, and saw Neal's empty. He felt slightly guilty for having stayed gone for so long, but he knew everyone was safe, and he was enjoying the familiarity of the office. With his report finished, he couldn't justify staying any longer, and he decided he better leave before Hughes came and threw him out.

Peter stood, putting the printed report in his desk drawer; he would let Diana finish putting the official seal on it in the morning. He shrugged on his coat, shut off the lights and closed up the office. Most of the other agents had gone home already, and he rode the elevator down in an awkward silence. On most days, Neal would have been chatting along about some art exhibit or such; the absence of noise today just seemed unsettling. It was a grim reminder of just how close he had come to loosing his partner, and how accustom he had become to having Neal around. He slid into the Taurus, subconsciously checking to make sure that bag of Neal's belongings he had stopped to get, was still sitting in the passenger's seat. As he eased the car out of the parking garage, he was thankful for the evening traffic, and the distraction it would provide.

It was dark by the time Peter finally found a parking spot at the hospital and made his way in. He deftly worked his way through the back corridors, avoiding most of the crowd, and headed straight to Neal's room in the ICU. He felt the little hairs on his neck stand up as he passed the nurse's station; the shades on Neal's room were closed, and he did not see the guard that was supposed to be posted at the door. He was grabbing for his cell phone, when a hand reached out and touched his arm from behind.

"Peter." He startled, and swung around to find himself face to face with Dr. Matthews. The young surgeon was neatly dressed in a suit and lab coat, looking bright and well rested, holding his hands up in surrender. "Hey now…it's alright."

"Where's Neal?" Peter growled, before he could catch himself.

"He's fine." The doctor just smiled to himself as he eased himself back a few steps. "I moved him to a private suit on the third floor. Come on, I'll take you up."

Peter studied the doctor for a moment, finally letting himself relax, and followed him back towards the elevators. They rode up the two floors in silence, the doctor waiting until they were out of the crowded elevator to speak again.

"Elizabeth wanted me to tell you that she had Jones take her to get dinner, and that she would be back." Peter nodded, feeling a little foolish as they turned a corner and he could see his guard sitting outside of one of the rooms.

"Peter, before you go in…" The doctor stopped outside the closed door, holding up a finger to ask for a minute.

"You're not coming in?"

"No…I think Neal's had just about enough of me for one day." He smiled easily. "Tread lightly with him, he's pretty anxious about something."

"What?" Peter could feel the agent side of his brain kicking on.

"I'm not sure what…but I'm pretty sure it has to do with you. Just…keep it light, OK?"

"Yeah…sure." Peter watched Dr. Matthews turn and leave, standing outside the door for a minute, a little baffled.

As Peter entered the room, he noticed Neal's head was turned away, but he knew he wasn't sleeping. The color of his skin had brightened, but his breaths were still coming slow and labored. Peter crossed the room silently, carefully setting the duffel bag down on the edge of the bed, watching as Neal's eyes slowly slid over to investigate it.

"I brought you some things from home." Peter kept his eyes down, casually opening the zipper; trying not to make notice of the fact that Neal turned his head to see what was in the bag. "June said she'll be by to see you in the morning."

"you…file…your…report?" Peter finally looked up to see Neal's pained blue eyes looking directly at him.

"Diana will file it in the morning." Peter pulled Neal's blue dressing robe out of the bag. He carefully helped Neal ease himself forward, having to let him pause a few times to catch his breath. Peter gingerly wrapped the robe around him, carefully rearranging all the wires and tubes, before easing him back down to the pillows. He knew the effort had taken a lot out of his partner, but he hoped having something warm and familiar would comfort him.

"What's…going…happen…to…me?" Peter couldn't hide the puzzlement in his expression when he heard the question. "send…en…me…back?"

"Send you back? Back where?" Peter stood and looked at his partner's worried expression for a moment, before realizing what he was talking about. "Prison? Is that what you're talking about?"

Neal slowly nodded his head. His blue eyes seemed shallow and distressed.

"Why would I do that? You've done nothing wrong." Peter pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat, trying to stuff down his frustration. He was pretty sure Dr. Matthews wouldn't consider this conversation 'treading lightly', but he was glad they would get to the bottom of his 'mood' and move on.

"angry…" Neal raised his hand and pointed to Peter with some effort. "el…en…dang…ered…be…cause…of…me."

"Neal." Peter grabbed Neal's hand and laid it gently back on the bed, keeping his own hand over it, he leaned forward and looked Neal directly in the eyes. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

"NO." Neal averted his eyes; his body shook a little from the effort of his raised voice.

"Neal. I want you to listen to me. Look at me." He waited until Neal brought his eyes back up to his. "This was not your fault. You're not going back to prison."

Peter had to take a few deep breaths of his own to steady himself.

"Neal. Severson was after me. I would have lost Elizabeth if it weren't for you." He paused knowing the key word Neal was wanting to hear. " You have my trust."

Peter waited until Neal's body relaxed a little before reaching over and tussling his hair. "For Christ's sake…don't screw this up."

"k" Neal motioned to the duffel bag. "what…else?"


	16. Chapter 15

I don't own White Collar, or the characters... blah blah blah... Please be kind...re[view]...

Chapter Fifteen

"God damn it!"

Peter walked into Neal's room just in time to see him drop rather painfully down in the chair next to the bed, throwing the metal walker across the room, as a torrent of uncharacteristic curses came exploding out from behind his clenched lips. It had been over a week since they had pulled him and Elizabeth out of that cold room in the abandoned HRT building. In total, Neal had been in the hospital nearly two weeks since the shooting, and it was taking its toll on his mood. The last few days had been especially hard, with the doctor's trying to get Neal to move around a little before sending him home. When the pain from his abdomen was knocked down enough that he felt like trying to get up, the pressure on the left leg where the bullet fragment had damaged his pelvis, usually got the better of him.

"I've got good news." Peter said casually as he walked over and picked up the walker, placing it against the wall out of the way. "They're discharging you in the morning."

"Great." Neal sulked down into the chair a little farther.

"What no witty response?" Peter crossed over and delicately hauled Neal back to his feet, nodding towards the bathroom door with his head. "Were you going or coming?"

"Coming." Neal scowled, and limped the last few steps to the bed, leaning on Peter for support.

"Did you decide?" Peter asked, deciding to ignore Neal's current foul state.

"Who buys a house with no toilet on the first floor anyway?" Neal hissed as he adjusted himself under the blankets.

"I wasn't planning on having an invalid for a partner." Peter shot back, his own temper starting to rise. Catching himself, he took a long breath and sat down in the chair before continuing. "Neal, you have to decide, so we can make preparations. You can always use the Coleman."

"No thanks." Neal waved a hand in dismissal. "I'll be fine in my apartment."

"So, you've decided then?" Neal nodded, his mood lightening just a little as the pain started to ease off. "Alright, I'll let June know to expect us."

"Fine. I need clothes." Peter couldn't contain his halfhearted chuckle. "You can't make me go home in my pajamas."

"Well, I could…" Peter caught Neal's glare and stopped. Maybe his mood hadn't lightened as much as he had thought. "Elizabeth was going to stop by June's and pick some up on her way back here tonight. She's bringing you dinner as well."

"Leftovers."

"Hey, I've never heard you complain before, grumpy." Peter shot Neal a meaningful glance, hoping he would check the attitude before Elizabeth showed up. "Duck Tartare, whatever that is, I thought it sounded right up your alley."

Peter knew the thought of what Neal would consider real food, had peaked his interest, and he couldn't resist a little smirk when he saw his partner's blue eyes brighten a little. Neal let out a little laugh, grabbing at his side, to ease the pain.

"I'm not sure you're going to consider that food." Neal teased. "You might want to order a pizza."

"Oh very funny. I enjoy a few delicacies every once in while." Peter feigned pretend hurt, although if he thought he could have ordered a pizza and not offended Elizabeth, he would have.

.

Peter wondered if Neal even owned any sweat pants, as he watched him dress in what Elizabeth had claimed was the most comfortable looking clothes she could find, a pair of baggy charcoal colored cargo pants, a white cotton t-shirt, and a black zippered turtleneck. If it wasn't for the fact that he was white knuckling the metal four-legged cane the hospital had given him, Peter decided, nobody would have been the wiser to his condition. The old Neal Caffrey façade was firmly in place, as he ran a hand through his hair one last time before turning from the mirror. Peter still worried how he was going to manage the climb up to his apartment, when he couldn't do much more than steady himself, standing in one place. He was sure after four or five stairs, Neal would change his mind.

"There's got to be something better than this thing." Neal whined, indicating the cane, as he started to ease himself back towards the bed one careful step at a time.

"Sorry to offend your sensibilities." Peter taunted. "I didn't know canes were fashion accessories."

"As a matter of fact…" Neal stopped where he was, looking up and smiling his signature smile as a cute little blonde nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. "Kristy, come to see me off?"

"You're chariot, sir." The nurse blushed just a little as she crossed over to where Neal was standing, lending him her arm for support as he sat down into the chair.

"Crying out loud…" Peter muttered under his breath. He shot Neal a quick disapproving glance. "Do you ever quit?"

"Ignore him." Neal turned his pretty blue eyes up at the nurse. "Let's get out of here."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Peter pulled out the slender sliver tipped black walking cane June had sent over with his clothes; he had been keeping it hidden. He laughed as he saw Neal's eyes twinkle with delight.

"Peter? You were holding out on me." Neal took the cane, laying it across the arms of the wheelchair.

"Well, you know, I was holding on to it just in case you woke up in that same mood you were in last night, and I was forced to knock you unconscious."

Peter walked down the hallway towards the elevator behind Neal, rolling his eyes as every so often one of the nurses would call out their good byes. It never ceased to amaze him, the enchanting effect Neal had on the ladies. Peter knew he had been charming them all week. Once they were out of the hospital, and away from all the watchful eyes, Peter noticed Neal's mood had darkened a bit. He forced himself to stay quiet, only lending a hand when asked, as he watched Neal go through the agonizingly difficult task of folding himself into the Taurus. Peter was all too aware, as he climbed in the driver's seat and headed out into the morning traffic, that Neal's carefully crafted persona was starting to crumble. His baby blue eyes were becoming dim and dull again.

"Neal?"

"Yeah…Peter?"

"You OK?" Neal just nodded his head in response; shutting his eyes, and clenching his jaw as he let his head sway back and forth with the movement of the car. Peter decided to let the silence linger, as he navigated through the gridlock the city was quickly becoming.

"Peter…"

"Yeah Neal?"

"I can't climb those stairs." He turned his eyes to Peter, with a look a defeat.

"I know buddy, I had El prepare the living room for you."

Neal was grateful that Peter didn't make him say anything more, and he found there was a strange comfort in the fact that Peter had known before he was willing to admit it. He let his head fall back against the headrest, and closed his eyes, enjoying the easy silence that they so rarely shared. He wrapped one arm protectively around his midsection, and let himself drift off to sleep.

Peter smiled to himself, as he pulled up in front of his townhouse, to find Elizabeth waiting at the street for them.

"I see he came to his senses."

"Only while doubled over in pain. Let's get him in the house before he changes his mind." Peter opened the door, nudging his partner gently to wake him. "Come on, sleeping beauty."

Neal slowly swung one leg at a time out of the car, using the doorframe to steady himself, as Peter pulled him to his feet. Between the pain medication, and the pain that was getting past it, he was starting to feel dizzy and nauseous. He stood as still as he could manage, until Peter had retrieved the cane and the rest of his belongings from the back seat.

"I've got it." He pulled his arm away from Peter, nearly loosing his balance, as he fought to keep as much weight off his left side as possible. He could feel Peter watching him as he tediously ambled up the short walkway. He paused at the base of the steps, thankful there were only six, letting Elizabeth go in front of him to open the door.

"I think I'm going to need that cane back." Peter whispered low enough that Elizabeth couldn't hear him.

"I'll be asleep soon enough, and you won't have to deal with me." He had every intention of taking a double dose of whatever pill the doctor had sent him home with, and staying unconscious for the rest of the day.

"Oh, but your so much more fun this way." Peter rolled his eyes as he watched Neal tackle the stairs.


	17. Chapter 16

I don't own White Collar or the characters... blah...blah...blah

Chapter Sixteen

Neal slowly opened his eyes and scanned the room. The house was quiet, but the smell of something delicious was wafting out from the kitchen. He gently let the footrest of the recliner down, unfolding himself out of the blankets he was wrapped in. He found the cane leaning against the side of the chair, and reluctantly picked it up, using it to push himself to his feet. As he hobbled through the dinning room, he caught sight of his tracking anklet sitting on the table; a hand written note was stuck under it.

_Lustum fac_.

Neal picked up the anklet, gazing down at it for a moment. Elizabeth came out of the kitchen, interrupting his thoughts and startling him a bit.

"Peter's working?" Neal asked, keeping his tone casual.

"He just had to run in for a sec." She pointed to the note on the table. "What does it mean?"

"It means, 'do the right thing'." Neal used the cane and the table to brace himself as he eased down into one of the chairs, and held the anklet out to Elizabeth. "I can't reach."

Neal watched as she fastened it around his ankle, seeing the little red light start blinking, indicating he was out of his radius. He couldn't help but laugh a little to himself, knowing that Peter would be notified as soon as it came online. He slumped back in the chair, keeping an eye on the blinking red light. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded from the effects of the double dose of pain medication he had taken earlier, and he curled one arm on the table, gently dropping his head down. As he felt his mind starting to succumb to the unconscious, he heard the quiet beep of his anklet coming into range.

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**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed, I have decided to pick this up and continue on in a new story. Sorry it has taken me so long to get this up, I've been busy getting my four legged 'Neal' ready for a charity show. The weather is supposed to be bad, so maybe we'll get a few chapters done. Look for the continuation in the story, "Amelioration".**


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